


Somebody Else

by carcinogenesis



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carcinogenesis/pseuds/carcinogenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tweek's back in South Park after four years away, and he's about to join all of his childhood friends for their last year together at Park County High. The only difference is that Tweek has become a new man. Or at least he likes to think he has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first South Park fanfic, and idk, tell me what you think. Good, bad, fucking awful- fill me in.

Tweek always avoided the mirror when getting ready. This was one of the exasperating habits he had sustained since his earliest days of childhood. He was uncertain as to why this was, because God knows there had always been a myriad of impractical, exaggerated causes for this quirk. Was it because of Tweek’s extremely low, almost non-existent levels of confidence? Or maybe it was due to the fear of something or someone appearing in the mirror if he were to look away for even just a second. Maybe Tweek just wanted to pretend that the terrifying stories Cartman had told of Mirror Monsters and Bloody Mary couldn’t possibly come true. Any of these were plausible causes of the habit which made getting ready in the morning all the harder. So Tweek made an effort of conquering it.

He focused on his dark green eyes, not even paying attention while buttoning up his familiar moss-green shirt and leaving it crumpled and messy. Tweek’s hair looked the same golden bird’s nest it’s always been. He had left it that way in hopes that it would somehow steal attention away from his irregularly large eyes. Unfortunately enough, all hopes Tweek had were futile. How typical.

Tweek was still trapped in his default, anxiety-induced, state as he made his way to the bus stop. It was his first day back at Park County High School, which would be the last year he’d get to spend with the annoying, yet somehow endearing childhood friends he had grown tired of last time he had seen them. This had been about four years ago, before Tweek’s parents had decided it was best to relocate their business to Denver, as it would allow them to expand the family business. Soon as the business achieved state-wide public recognition, which had been recently, Tweek’s dad decided it was time to hightail it back to South Park. He had concluded that the family could run the business from the comfort of the sweet, little mountain town while it thrived elsewhere.

Tweek had been conflicted regarding how to feel about that, since he felt outcast almost everywhere he had ever been in his wearying lifetime. Whether it was South Park back in the day, or his high school in Denver, which had also sucked pretty bad. Hell, Tweek even felt outcast when he’d go buy groceries on his mother’s behalf. But if there was one thing Tweek had been certain of, it had been that the thought of coming back to South Park scared the freaking life out of him. This wasn’t some new development either. Tweek had always been terrified of pretty much everything. But social interaction took the cake, especially when having to do with the exasperating, yet somehow charming characters he had come to know during his time in South Park. 

“Tweek?” A familiar, high-pitched voice called, so suddenly that Tweek’s distinctive anxiety fucked up his response.

“...Ngh!” Tweek shrieked, failing to form a coherent response. He had been over that mumbling shit, or at least so he thought. Of course, South Park would have such a detrimental effect on him. He whirled around, coming face to face with a cute, boyish-looking blond guy staring at him with large blue eyes. Oh God, Butters.

“Oh hamburgers, it really is you!” He cheered, throwing his arms around Tweek. Butters had always been too affectionate with everyone, as far as Tweek could recall, to the point where it just became his thing. This had always made Tweek uncomfortable enough to go beet-red with embarrassment, and intensified his hope that the ground would someday swallow him whole, saving him from this dreadful eternity that was life.

“Um, yeah, hey Butters, how've you been?” Tweek said, managing to sound more awkward than he has in ages.

“I’m great! Jesus, you should have said you were coming, you would’ve gotten a warmer welcome from me, that’s for sure!” No one knew that the Tweaks were returning to South Park, Tweek didn’t even know till a couple of weeks ago when his dad announced their homecoming and a plan for the move he had been working on since a couple of months prior.

“Uh, thanks anyway, I guess,” Tweek was at a literal loss for words.

“You missed so much; I gotta fill you in sometime, seriously! Well, not that there’s much that changed over the past couple years,” Butters said thoughtfully. “Let’s see, Stan and Wendy are still together. Well, if you consider being on again, off again being together. Eric is still the same old Eric, and Kenny spends pretty much every day getting stoned. Oh, but there is one really strange thing. A little while after you left, Kyle and Stan just stopped talking. No fight or anything, they just stopped talking. Weird, right?”

Apparently Butters felt that ‘filling Tweek in’ only pertained to stories that have more to do with Butters’ friends rather Tweek’s. This didn’t surprise Tweek in the slightest. It didn’t bother him either, because it meant that Butters would have to do all the talking while Tweek could just nod along, pretending to listen. He wouldn't have to utter a single word about his time away, or answer any stereotypical questions people commonly asked those who had lived away from home for a while.

“That is weird,” Tweek replied, urging Butters to continue his long-winded narration of all the happenings in South Park since Tweek’s departure. Most of them had to do with Kenny, Cartman, Kyle, and Stan.

Now Tweek was standing in front of his soon-to-be homeroom, letting his anxiety tear him apart from the inside out.

“We have a new student joining us today,” He heard Mrs. Hudson announce upon entering the classroom, while trailing slowly behind her. “Tweek Tweak, from Denver. He went to junior high in South Park, so some of you are likely acquainted with him already.”

Attempting to seem indifferent, Tweek kept his eyes locked on the tall, snow covered pine trees scattered over the school grounds outside the classroom window. He felt uneasy doing it, as if he was trying to prove to his childhood friends that he wasn’t the same jittery spaz they had once known him to be. In reality though, Tweek was well aware of the fact that his anxious, impulsive demeanor was unchangeable. The only difference that occurred is Tweek’s unexpected mastery of the ability to keep his psycho-self hidden, putting up a cool front.

“Tweek, you can take a seat next to Thomas,” Mrs. Hudson said, directing Tweek toward a seat at the very back of the spacious classroom, near a familiar looking boy with fair, freckled skin and sandy blonde hair. It was Thomas; the cool kid with Tourette’s Tweek had talked to a couple of times when he had been the new kid in junior high.

“Hey Tweek,” Thomas greeted, a genuine smile spreading across his weary features.

“Hey,” Tweek replied.

Tweek spent the rest of the lesson talking to Thomas about how South Park had been for him in the past few years and his Tourette’s gradually stabilizing, to the point where it’s somewhat manageable. Thomas always seemed very open about his life, something that Tweek admired greatly. To Tweek, the prospect of sharing just slightly personal things with even the closest of friends was inconceivable.

The two had managed to get a fair amount of conversation into the lesson among having to collect timetables and listening to Mrs. Hudson's dull explanation of the changes to this year’s curriculum. Tweek and Thomas had only two mutual classes, Spanish and Honors English, but by the end of homeroom Tweek had someone to sit with during his most dreaded part of the school day- lunch time.

“Hmm, of the guys you were friends with back in middle school I’d say Kyle’s still cool, Kenny’s alright, fun to hang out with – _shit_ \- Butters is still as nice as ever, and they’re the only bearable ones. I mean Cartman is obviously still a dick, – _fuck_ \- Stan’s the quarterback so he doesn’t really talk to us anymore, and Craig and those guys are too cool to care,” Thomas explained, as they walked towards the cafeteria after their first Spanish class of the year.

“I guess I expected that,” Tweek said. “But not Stan and Kyle ignoring each other, what the Hell’s that all about?”

“No idea, no one really knows, it’s like one day they just stopped talking. It was around the end of sophomore year, - _fuck_ \- about two years ago. That’s basically what caused everyone to drift apart. It’s like they were kind of holding all of us together, like they were the link between the cool kids and the outcasts,” Thomas continued.

“That’s weird, man, never would’ve seen it coming,” Tweek said. Honestly though, he didn’t. Tweek only hung out with Stan and Kyle for a short while, but during that time it was pretty obvious to him how close they were. Well, not that the strange, yet somehow disheartening ‘break up’ of those two affected him in the slightest.

They got their food and sat down at table in the far corner of the school cafeteria, talking about trivial subjects such as their favorite bands or pop culture current events. Soon enough they were joined by Kyle Broflovski, his curly, red hair looking charmingly disheveled with the absence of the familiar green hat he had worn for as long as Tweek could remember. It was a strange sight, Kyle without his hat, but he looked a lot better. The messiness of his hair suited Kyle’s sharp facial features, and the fiery red color emphasized his bright green eyes and pale skin. Whoa, Kyle had changed, and of course Tweek was envious. He looked the same mess of a human being he’d always been, and here was Kyle, all pretty and angelic looking.

“The first day’s not even over yet, and I’m already so done,” Kyle said in his familiar temperamental, exasperated tone of voice, not even minding Tweek’s presence.

“Cartman?” Thomas asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

“Obviously. I can’t believe he-,” Kyle halted, as if he had just noticed something vital. Oh, right, Tweek. He stared him down with disbelief, his mouth agape. “What the Hell? Tweek, where’d you come from?”

“Hey, um, Kyle,” Tweek said, sounding more uncomfortable than he had hoped. He would just be at an everlasting loss for words if people keep reacting this astonished by his appearance.

“When did you- How- Why are you in South Park?” Kyle said, both confused and excited.

“Oh, we moved back, like, a couple of days ago. My dad felt the most comfortable running the business from it's initial place of origin. I'm pretty sure he just wanted to come back for sentimental reasons, though. He really did miss this place, so he just decided to drag our whole family back here,” Tweek explained, as if it was just a minor change that shouldn’t arouse even the slightest bit of perplexity.

“Wait, what- How come no one knew? You’ve been gone for like four years. This is so weird; I mean you just come here, with no notice really. I- How was Denver?” He asked, still sounding incredulous.

“Um, good. It was pretty much how you'd expect the city to be. Busier and more lively. But still pretty boring compared to here,” Tweek said, trying to avoid having to go into actual conversation about his Denver life. That was not something he wanted to get into at the moment. Or, preferably, ever.

“Denver? More boring than South Park? That seems impossible," Kyle said, then after pondering a bit changed his mind. "Well, actually, no, South Park’s probably too eventful for my liking. But that’s probably because half the people here don’t know shit about being civil, and so keep doing weird and stupid shit all the time." He sounded kind of pissed off. “Plus, all the goddamned drama really doesn’t help.”

“What’d Cartman do, seriously?” Thomas said, making himself heard.

“Ugh, you know him, typical fatass, going on one of his trademark anti Semitic tirades in homeroom. First thing he does when he gets to school, what the fuck? What a great fucking way to begin senior year. The only thing that keeps me going is that after this year, I’ll never have to see his fat face ever again,” Kyle said. “Well Tweek, now you can be sure that Cartman is still a massive dick like always, and you get the chance to avoid him at all costs. I’d steer clear of him, too, but unfortunately we’ve known each other for too long for that to be possible.”

After that Kyle just kept his head down, picking at his packed lunch while mumbling something about Cartman's douchebaggery under his breath, and asking Tweek stereotypical questions like ‘How was school there?’ or ‘Are the kids there bigger douches than here?’. Well, the latter isn’t all that stereotypical.

Eventually they were joined by Butters and Jimmy. Jimmy proceeded to act all surprised at Tweek’s presence, but soon eased up and joined in on making conversation regarding the most banal topics, which were in fact Tweek’s favorite kind.

“You know, you’re a lot cooler than I remember you being,” Kyle said, as the bell sounded for the end of the lunch period.

 _Oh, maybe because I’ve been cautiously building up a front for, what? The past four years?_ Tweek thought, but instead said, “Really? Denver must’ve changed me a bit then, guess I slowed down with the coffee consumption.” That was a lie, Tweek probably consumed double the amount of coffee he had back in the day, but smoking a joint now and then balanced him out.

“That could be it; you were basically addicted to coffee back in the day. Didn’t you even have a thermos you would carry around constantly?” Kyle said, grinning.

 _It’s in my bag,_ Tweek thought, but just laughed instead.

“Oh, and Craig would carry it around for you sometimes. Remember that? You guys had the whole town fooled, honestly. Everyone thought you were dating. Oh, and your constant hand-holding was fucking adorable. And hilarious. Makes since though, you were pretty much best friends,” He stopped talking for a moment, grin disappearing from his face, but then continued. “Have you talked to him?”

Tweek hadn’t seen Craig since his last night in South Park. Disregarding the whole ‘fake dating charade’, Tweek and Craig really were best friends. Their famed dating scandal may have been what initiated their peculiar, yet close friendship, but their mutual compatibility is what kept it alive. Well, that was until Tweek left South Park, of course. They treated Tweek’s last night as if it were any other; eating junk food, bitching about friends, and playing videogames till four o' clock in the morning. Tweek hadn’t been surprised by this; he was well aware of the fact that Craig was never one for sappy goodbyes. It conflicted with his otherwise laid-back, indifferent attitude. He never cared much about anything, so Tweek had just expected him to let their friendship dissolve after that night, concluding it where it was intended to end. And that’s what happened. Suffice it to say that this form of abrupt ending didn’t do Tweek entirely well; he had loved Craig, to some extent after all. Craig was, without question, the only person Tweek could talk to in his most anxious faze. But, that was all in the past.

The school day went by quicker than Tweek had expected it to, likely because he had found people he could talk to and even call friends. Granted, he had known them all from before. Seeing his childhood friends again was most definitely the highlight of his otherwise boring day.

Well, Cartman’s fit in biology was also rather amusing but nevertheless. Upon seeing Tweek all Cartman said was ‘Oh, the spaz is back. Weak.’ Then he just proceeded with his typical Cartman-esque actions, forgetting that Tweek ever left. Cartman was not massively fat anymore, much to Tweek's surprise; he was just bulky and very tall. Looking like that Tweek knew no one could mess with Cartman anymore out of fear of getting beaten to a pulp by him, because now that seemed entirely plausible. Tweek couldn’t help but be jealous of Cartman, mostly due to his height. Tweek himself was 5.4, on a good day.

Stan was surprised to see Tweek, but in other respects remained cordial, making sure to greet Tweek before going back to his band of popular kids. Suddenly Stan’s popularity made absolute sense to Tweek. Mixed with his likeable personality, Stan’s changed appearance most definitely factored into people’s fascination with him. He was tall, buff and had inviting facial features. His light blue eyes seemed warm and kind and probably made people just want to stare into them for all eternity. Tweek was beginning to see an irritating pattern here; all his childhood friends appeared to have gone through at least one drastic change that had enabled them to be somehow more attractive to others.

Wendy was as polite as ever, greeting Tweek, questioning him about his time in Denver, and just making pleasant conversation. She looked like Tweek remembered her; naturally girly with a simple air of beauty about her, just older.

History was Tweek’s last class of the day, and caused by far the most distress in Tweek’s anxiety plagued mind, almost triggering his signature spazzing that he had been trying so hard to repress. Tweek was chilled out for his typical standards upon entering the classroom. He was chilled out when for some bizarre reason Bebe had invited him to sit in a seat near hers and catch up. He was chilled out when he caught Craig’s stare from across the room while making small talk with Bebe. Shortly thereafter, Tweek began losing his shit. It must’ve been the initial shock of seeing Craig for the first time in a long time or something along those lines that made Craig’s presence have the exact opposite effect on Tweek to the positive, reassuring feelings Craig would cause Tweek to have four years ago. Tweek spun his head round; as he felt his face heat up he attempted to conceal the redness of his cheeks. 

“What are you all red for?” Bebe teased. Tweek wasn’t surprised at her mistaking feelings of embarrassment for feelings you get when you see someone attractive or your crush, as they both make you go red in the face and believing the latter just suited her more.

She noticed Craig staring from across the room and smirked. “Ooh, looking at Craig? Gotta be careful with those old flings!” She said, giggling.

“You know that was fake, right?” Tweek asked, just to make sure.

“Sure, but I’ve gotta be honest, it was pretty convincing. You two were so damn good together,” She replied, winking, her pretty red lips contorted into a sly grin. “Especially on Craig’s part. He seemed so in love with you! Most of the girls in our year can only dream of ever being as close to Craig as you used to be. But I'm guessing you still haven’t talked to him, so here’s the deal. He does exactly what everyone expected him to be doing without you. He smokes, drinks, fucks, does whatever the Hell he wants. Whether that’s drugs, partying, fights. But when we talk to him he is literally just same old Craig, cold and detached. Same as he was when you were here with him. He just prefers not to talk to us junior high buddies, though. Apart from Clyde and Token. Maybe it’d be different for you, I wouldn’t be surprised.”                                                    

“What do you mean? We were friends like, four years ago; I mean we haven’t talked since. I doubt he'd care to talk to me. Craig’s just like that, man. But that’s cool, he’s him.”

“I think he appreciated you more than you know, Tweek. You should’ve seen him after you left,” Bebe said.

“Huh?” Was all Tweek could come up with. Craig was fine. He had always been fine; it was his default mode. Before he could question this any further, though, Bebe was called out of the classroom because of some incident in the second floor girl’s bathroom.

Tweek was left staring through the classroom window onto the bushy, untamed pine tree forest surrounding the high school, pretending to listen to Mr. Ortega drone on about this year’s History course with all of its trials and tribulations. Through the entire lesson tough, Tweek couldn’t get the thought of seeing Craig again out of his head, hard as he tried. Thinking about Craig couldn’t do him any good, it was just damaging to his state of mind, but he couldn’t help it. It made him feel weird. What’s weirder though is that every now and then, throughout the lesson he’d feel Craig’s eyes focus on him. Tweek had no clue what to make of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relatively innocent sounding idea turns into a pretty traumatizing event for Tweek and Butters especially.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of Creek interaction here, idk where I was going with this one.

The first month of the Tweak’s hasty return to South Park went relatively well. Over the course of the month, all of the family’s furniture had arrived and Tweek had started working as the cashier of the official community Tweek Bros Coffeehouse. 

He hadn’t been especially thrilled by his new position, to say the least. The job came with wearying responsibilities and an overwhelming sense of authority that didn’t affect Tweek’s mental state all that well. But he hadn’t been able object due to his father’s well-meaning, but frustrating ideology that in order for Tweek to run the business someday, he must first experience the mentally and physically draining obstacles of being an underpaid, small-scale worker.

Tweek’s first day on the job had been a catastrophic blur of disastrous events, with coffee spilling, customers complaining, and children shouting.  Tweek can’t even recall the amount of self control it had taken him just to seem just slightly composed, and is still in utter disbelief over the fact that he survived that entire dreadful day. Over time though, Tweek had been somewhat able to get the hang of the fundamentals, developing a sense of knowledge about the inner workings of a generally well-established coffeehouse.

Sundays were the best days. In stark contrast to all of the other weekdays, very few people would show up throughout the entire day, most of them in the morning, which would leave the shop seemingly deserted by lunchtime. For Tweek, this would mean one of two equally gratifying things; Tweek would get to home early to his inviting, cozy bed, or Tweek would get to stay at the unoccupied shop and drink all the coffee he wants, devoid of judgment. Today was the latter, so Tweek brewed himself a plain espresso and sat at the front counter of the shop, watching strangers hurry by the store’s large glass windows, their cheeks blushing from the biting cold. The store’s comforting vacancy along with the sound of silence made Tweek feel drowsy, which was a rare occurrence, as the last time Tweek had actually gotten a good night’s rest was around four years ago. Before he knew it, despite the coffee he was drinking, Tweek dozed off.

“Tweek? Hey, Tweek?” A familiar voice called.

“Is he awake?” Another voice asked.

“Does he look awake to you, Butters?” The first voice replied, irritated.

“I don’t know, he could be pretending. Eric would do that to me when we had sleepovers together. I still don’t know why, though. He says it was because I’m annoying,” Butters said.

“You know I don’t ever want to have to hear about you and Cartman having weird sleepovers. A lot weirder shit than just pretending to sleep went down at those, if I remember correctly,” The voice’s underlying temperamental disposition allowed Tweek to recognize it as Kyle’s, both him and Butters seeming as if they had forgotten about Tweek’s slumbering existence.

Tweek lifted his head, yawning as his eyes focused on Kyle and Butters bickering in front of him.

“What are you guys doing here?” Tweek said, his voice sounding as tired as he felt.

“Well we were going to get coffee, but the service in this place is fucking awful. I mean seriously, no staff apart from a sleeping cashier,” Kyle joked.

“We close early on Sundays, sometimes. What do you guys want?” Tweek would try to be nice, but impromptu naps had always put him in a foul mood, this Sunday being no exception.

“Whoa Tweek, seems that becoming cooler goes hand in hand with acting colder towards your friends. We just want to hang out, seriously. It’s Sunday night, we’re your friends, let’s hang out. And it’s not just us, a bunch of people want to see you. You’ve been here a month and talked to maybe three people,” Kyle pointed out.

“Who wants to see me?” Tweek asked. He assumed that there were no one in the entire town of South Park that would be thrilled enough at his sudden return to actively try and seek him out.

“You know, Token, Clyde, your old buddies,” Kyle said, a tinge of uneasiness in his voice.

“Why didn’t they just talk to me in school, then?” Tweek wasn’t buying it.

“High school social hierarchy,” Kyle said,"You know how tough it can be for the popular kids to break away from their strict social circles under the scrutiny of their friends. They're just watching their valued reputations,"

“What’s your angle Kyle?” Tweek questioned. It was rude for Tweek to outright assume that Kyle’s playing an angle, but it was unlike him to carelessly attempt to persuade the unwilling.

“Angle? Come on, who am I now? Cartman?” Kyle said, his unsteady temper becoming more distinct in his voice.

“If he gets you to hang out with me and the guys tonight, he gets an out,” Butter explained in his usual cheerful tone of voice.

That cleared everything up. If Kyle and Tweek had one common similarity, it was their strong dislike for socializing. Tweek couldn’t feel annoyed at Kyle; he could relate to him.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” Tweek said, surprising both himself and Kyle. The initial reason for his staying in the coffeehouse this Sunday, despite all of the satisfying varieties of coffee he got to choose from, was because his parents had guests over for the majority of the day. If one thing made Tweek more uncomfortable than socializing with friends, it was socializing with strangers. This could also help Tweek in building up his new ‘cool’ front.

It would seem that Kyle had been making his best effort when persuading Tweek to hang out with the guys, as in the heat of the moment he may have overstated some minor details in his coaxing. For one, the faces Tweek would come to face most certainly weren’t those of Token and Clyde, rather the eager faces of Thomas and Jimmy. Not that Tweek had any qualms with that at all, having to deal with Token and Clyde right then would have been too stressful for him to handle.

“So, what are we doing? And also, why Hell are we on the outskirts of South Park this late in the evening?” Tweek asked. They were standing on top of the massive snow-covered boulder, situated near the desolate freeway on the very edge of town.

“Re-Remember when we were fourth graders, and would co-come up here for the sole purpose of throwing r-rocks at the cars passing by? That was like the best way to blow of some steam, and we didn’t even do it for that,” Jimmy explained.

“So, I’m guessing I’m here to commit pointless acts of vandalism with you guys, because you’re bored. Wasn’t that only acceptable when we were toddlers with no idea what the Hell we were doing?” Tweek questioned. He wasn’t objecting to it. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, Tweek was still the same old easily influenced spaz whose biggest shortcomings were caused by conflicting between overwhelming peer pressure and wanting to do right by his parents. For some reason, the former won him over most of the time.

“Twee- Tweek, we know you. We knew y-you before you left and became all c-chilled out and weirdly calm for Tweek standards. It m-must be fucking stressful to keep all that p-panic in all the time, especially for this entire fucked up first month of se-senior year,” Jimmy reasoned, sounding a little too sure of himself.

“So you want to help me relieve stress by throwing rocks at cars with me, because you care for my well being?” Tweek asked. Jimmy had certainly been correct about the whole tedious topic regarding the stress created by putting up a front, leading Tweek to be bothered that Jimmy could see right through him with such ease. Again, he wasn’t about to protest their thoughtful proposition, as another thing Jimmy was right about was how fucking stressful his first month back had been.

“That, and we’re bored as fuck and feel like throwing rocks at cars just for fun,” Thomas stated, determining Tweek’s decision on how to spend his Sunday night. He was going to be throwing rocks at cars.

About two hours into their persistent rock throwing endeavor the foursome got rather worn out by the tiring activity, worsened by the mind numbing affect pot factored in. Someone, Tweek couldn’t recall who of the group, had graciously presented them with some about midway through their throwing of rocks. Tweek hadn't had much though, he was more focused on blowing off some steam.

The chilly evening’s atmosphere was unusually relaxed, with only the unfortunate inhabitants of the targeted cars yelling obscenities every now and again. This allowed Tweek to slightly chill out, which would be considered a good thing in general, but tonight it only made him more eager to execute any pointless act of criminal damage. With each new throw Tweek used more force, insuring a greater accuracy within the scope of his hapless targets. After all that’s happened he just couldn’t resist; the first month had been far more overwhelming than his tortured mind could ever bear. Nothing too eventful had happened, but Tweek had simply been drowning in paranoid thoughts created by the rapid speed at which he had been pushed into his peculiar life at South Park, complete with his peculiar friends and his peculiar family. What was strangest to Tweek though, and the most bothersome, were the melancholic, wistful feelings caused by the uncomfortable encounters he sometimes experienced with old friends or acquaintances in the school hallways. Well, just one friend.

Whenever Tweek would see Craig on school grounds or around South Park he’d be overwhelmed by an unexplainable, but painful emotion of what Tweek has since concluded must be a bizarre mixture of nostalgia and regret. This caused his breath to hitch and pulse to promptly quicken, as if he were recovering from a painful punch to the stomach. His reactions would worsen if he were to catch Craig’s bored, detached gaze, or do anything related to him. Tweek was left clueless in regards to the reasoning for this.

It all caused Tweek to feel irritated and bemused throughout most of his first month spent in South Park, so as far as he was concerned, this whole rock throwing idea was the best anyone had ever had.

However, since by nine the guys had already somewhat damaged a considerable number of undeserving passerby’s cars, an impending disagreeable, and possibly dangerous encounter was just waiting to happen. And in the heat of Tweek’s own passionate rock throwing, he had failed to take notice of it. The tearing yelling of a distant, unfamiliar voice pulled Tweek straight out of his adrenaline-induced daze and back to the far less enjoyable, often disappointing realm of reality. At the very bottom of the aforementioned massive boulder stood a red-faced, bull-necked, belligerent old man shouting vile profanities at the wide-eyed Butters, his face contorted into an expression of terror and confusion.

Tweek couldn’t even attempt to make out the words rapidly escaping the pugnacious man’s mouth, his ears ringing from the horrendous amounts of fear coursing ]through him. Terrified, Tweek stood speechless with panic, a rush of previous petrifying events flooding his worn out mind. This was not the place for Tweek to recall all of his most scarring, mentally troubling past encounters; all it achieved for him was an indefinite deafness and a jarring inability to move.

The hostile man stood there for another agonizing couple of seconds, before turning around and making his way back towards his car. A sense of relief washed over Tweek right away, but was shattered as soon as Tweek’s eyes took notice of the daunting object the man had pulled out of his car’s trunk. A shotgun.

Then Tweek was running. He was uncertain how he had achieved a surge of such powerful mobility, but that was inconsequential now, as he was running for his fucking life. Everything had become a blur of various intertwining, painfully bright colors, out of which he couldn’t make out a single fathomable object. The ringing in Tweek’s ears was becoming more and more violent, and coupled with the intense beating of his heart against his chest, convinced him that this was his last night on Earth.

In the past, Tweek never would’ve thought he possessed the ability to run too far or too long, but if there’s one thing this mortifying experience had taught him, it’s that all that’s necessary is pure, unadulterated fear. Well, that and maybe don’t piss off old white men driving through a backward hick town in the night time. Or just don’t throw rocks at cars.

“Oh my fucking God,” Thomas’s voice allowed Tweek to slow down and ease up. “What the actual fuck just happened?’

“We p-pissed off an old white dude. That’s what usually h-happens with old white dudes near South Park; they use guns when they’re a-angry. God knows every old w-white man in America owns a gun. Not even surprised that there are s-some crazy enough to u-use them,” Jimmy said, sounding far to calm considering the soul-shaking experience they just lived through.

“Where’s Butters?” Tweek asked, an immediate piercing anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach. The innocent little kid was the one who pissed of the psychotic old man, so this was probably the most terrifying way the already fucked up situation could’ve escalated.

“Oh shit, yeah. Oh my God, Token too,” Thomas said, his face drained of color, with an expression of genuine horror and uncertainty.

“What do you mean, Token too?” Tweek questioned, the aforementioned anxiety inflating by the second. Token wasn’t supposed to see him; Kyle lied about that in order to persuade Tweek to take his place.

“He w-wanted to c-catch up, didn’t K-Kyle tell you? An-Anyway that’s not important now that him and B-Butters are both going to die! Oh God, what the Hell do we d-do?”    Jimmy said, and clutched his crutches so hard that his knuckles turned white. How had he been able to run all this way with his handicap?

“We should just call the police, it’ll be fine if we do that,” Thomas said, his voice shaking.

“We’ll get fu-fucked over for throwing those r-rocks in the f-first place! We’re fu-fucked either w-way, there’s no w-way out of this!” Jimmy panicked. In the midst of all the commotion Tweek couldn’t help but wonder whether that’s how he had sounded when was so nervous about the most insignificant topics of his everyday life. If so, how did people see him during his earliest days at South Park?

“We have to do something Jimmy!” Thomas said. They must’ve forgotten Tweek was even there, which had become something to be expected.

Why was Tweek quiet? Normally, in any event similar to the current one, he’d more often sound like Jimmy- terrified and hysterical. This was another inappropriate thought for the given situation, but it helped distract Tweek from the unpleasant thoughts arising due to this mortifying occurrence, threatening to overcome his feeble mind. He didn’t want to think about Butters, the one pure-of-heart friend he had, being fatally wounded, left to die freezing in a muddy ditch, sobbing in the middle of nowhere. Or Token, the only one of his old friends that had made an honest effort to see him, being shot dead on the spot, unaware of what happened before the bullet even left its barrel. And for the first time in his entire life, Tweek was certain that his fear of his own paranoid thoughts was not induced by the likelihood of them ever coming true, rather by what they willed him to do in that single moment.

Tweek sprinted back in the direction of the boulder, ignoring Jimmy and Thomas’s deafening screams of panic, focused on shutting out his own raging thoughts of self-doubt and hesitance. He ignored the familiar feelings of anxiety reminding him of every single minuscule thing that could go wrong, leading to a multitude of horrifying outcomes. Tweek ignored it all; he just wanted his friends to be safe.

For what seemed like eternity, Tweek searched through the area surrounding the boulder, until he caught sight of a petrified little blonde boy, his eyes red and breath hitching, standing completely still at the opposite end of the enormous stone. Relived, Tweek rushed to his aid, convincing himself that now that Butters was safe and the psychopathic old man was nowhere in sight, all was well. And just when Tweek thought things couldn’t get any worse, the entire scene was completed before his eyes.

A crying Butters being held at gunpoint by none other than Mr. Psycho Hillbilly himself. To think that he had somehow managed to rid himself of emotion on this particularly eventful evening was likely the most foolish thing Tweek had ever done, as now he was filled with a feeling of dread like he’d never felt before. He felt like his insides were rotting and leaving him an empty shell of a human being. All Tweek wanted to do was curl up into a ball on the cold, snow-covered ground and cry his eyes out. He wanted to cry hysterically, to scream horrifying screams of pain and agony at the top of his lungs. 

Instead, Tweek surveyed the scene, keeping an eye out for any viable areas to instigate an attack. The only way for this to work was from above. Slowly, Tweek backed away from the scene, making his way up the massive boulder. He just had to jump on the guy, simple as that. It did seem like a thoughtless plan even in the heat of the moment, but Tweek had an inability to think well in daunting situations. So he positioned himself atop the very edge of the boulder, directly above the man. He closed his eyes, and he jumped.

Fear coursed through his body as he flew through the air, crashing into the earth with a loud thud and a faint cracking sound. As soon as he opened his eyes a sense of solace overcame him, as his eyes searched the ground for the shot gun to find it a couple meters away from him, clutched in Butters’ shaking hands. His entire lower body was throbbing with discomfort, and the immobility of his wrist lead him to the conclusion that it had been the unfortunate source of the cracking sound. Tweek remembered who he had been trying to subdue in the first place, only to realize that he was sitting on top of the unconscious person that had just been raging around with a gun a couple of seconds ago. Success. To Tweek’s fortune, the man seemed fine, with no severe injuries. Tweek’s sudden speedy impact did knock the wind out of him, and he would likely come to in a couple of minutes.

“What the fuck?” An unknown voice called from somewhere behind Tweek.

“Dude, Butters, are you okay?” Another voice, Token’s, sounded and soon a tall, dark skinned boy appeared before Tweek’s eyes, rushing to Butters aid.

“Am f-fine,” Butters weakly responded. He stared at the glistening snow, ignoring Token’s attempts at helping him.

“Tweek, are you okay?” The person entered Tweek’s field of vision, and appeared as the last person Tweek wanted to see at the moment. Or the first, he was uncertain.

Craig cautiously extended his hand, as if he were being careful not to spook Tweek thinking that he might make a break for it. He had his distinctive unreadable look in his eyes that irritated Tweek to no end, because no matter how much Craig wanted to pretend that he was a stone cold robot devoid of human emotions, Tweek knew that could never be true, not for him.

Craig had changed quite a bit since Tweek’s last time in South Park. He’d gotten taller, and seemed almost a whole foot taller than Tweek, much to Tweek’s dismay. He wasn’t really too buff or too skinny, but rather the perfect medium with a fairly lean, muscular body, which was but another thing about him that made Tweek feel envious. Most of all, Craig’s attractive face changed; he now looked older and more serious, which increased his levels of attractiveness by an exceptional amount.

Tweek stared at Craig for a while with an inquisitive look on his face; forgetting about Craig’s extended hand and the entire mess of a situation that had just taken place.

Eventually Craig just leaned down and grabbed Tweek’s arm, pulling him up and away from his unconscious offender.

“We should seriously get going before this fucker wakes up,” Craig said, addressing Token while still gripping Tweek’s arm.

“We should. Tweek, where are Thomas and Jimmy?” Token questioned as he made an attempt to help Butters in standing up straight.

Tweek understood the question, but his crash from the adrenaline rush along with the throbbing pain in his aching wrist and Craig’s death grip on his upper arm caused him to just stare at Token for a while, his eye’s struggling to stay open and mouth agape.

“Tweek, where are they?” Craig reiterated calmly, but without loosening his grip on Tweek’s arm.

“U-Um, they, uh, they ran w-with me when the guy appeared and we thought w-we were in the- the clear, but then Butters was g-gone. So I came here a-alone and they stayed behind,” Tweek said, using his best effort to make himself clear.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Craig asked. He sounded angry, but when Tweek looked at him all he could see was his signature poker face.

“Doesn’t matter now, we’ve got to find them. Come on, before the douche bag comes to. We’re going to my place, we’ll look for them on the way,” Token decided.

The ride to Token’s house was quiet, Token asking Butters a couple of questions to calm him down, but aside from that there was only the sound of the wind howling outside the car. This meant that Tweek was left alone with his thoughts, and this left him to reflect on the disastrous events of the evening, his unexpected intrepidity, and the sudden appearance of his two childhood friends. Overall, the whole throwing rocks at cars thing was thoughtless, but there was no way to reverse it now.

Tweek diverted his attention away from the car window and instead to his friends, each with a different expression on their face. Butters was asleep, his big eyes closed and mouth hanging open, a content expression. Token looked pensive as he stared onto the road, as if he were going over the events of the evening repeatedly in his head, trying to convince himself that they did, indeed, happen. As he turned around to look at Craig, Tweek realized he’d already been beat to it, Craig looking at him almost warmly, with something other than just his characteristic inexpressive stare. For a single fleeting moment, Craig’s icy blue eyes looked so divergent from their typical appearance, so full of an identifiable, powerful emotion.

“Don’t do stupid things,” Craig said suddenly, as Token pulled the car into the driveway in the spacious front yard of his house.

“Huh?” Was all that Tweek could come up with, surprised at Craig’s comment. Why would he say that? It made it sound as if Craig cared, which is way out of character for him. Not to say that he didn’t give two shits about anything ever, he did, but when Craig was through with something he was through for good. He made no additional efforts with things past their deadlines.

“Tweek doesn’t do stupid things willingly, it’s the best thing about him,” He said flatly, before slipping out of the car, leaving behind a speechless Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I know this was a really weird chapter overall, but I had to put it in, I'm getting to the good stuff. Trust me, just wait. The next one will be way better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig's thoughts on basically everything.

Craig Tucker didn’t think much of anything. He preferred not to read into or overthink things, so when shit got real he’d just roll with it, no irrelevant questions asked. Over thinking even the most trivial of details could ultimately result in a multitude of complications, so he considered it in his best interest to only ponder what was crucial. In this rational practice of letting things go their own way, Craig had gotten somewhat carried away.

As far as he can recall, this habit of his had begun when he was around thirteen, with the unfortunate passing of his beloved guinea pig, Stripe. Stripe was cool and all, so it left Craig in a temporary somber mood, but eventually he just decided to forget about it. Things die, shit happens. No use thinking up all the pitiful scenarios of what-might-have-been. This had become his default reaction to most everything that had happened since dear Stripe’s untimely demise, only it had gotten worse, to the point where the most impactful things evoked little to no emotion whatsoever. A prime example of had been Craig's reaction to the departure of his best friend.

Craig treated Tweek’s leaving South Park as if it wasn’t happening at all, and as if it wasn’t a big enough deal to be properly acknowledged. He was leaving; it was the appropriate time to end their friendship on a mutually agreeable note. This had been Craig’s distant thought process during the entire ordeal. But the aftermath had been different than usual, which is why Craig still had an atypical interest in Tweek remaining as he had been the last time Craig had seen him four years ago.

He discovered this during the eventful evening Butters, Tweek, Jimmy and Thomas had been chased around by a psychopathic, gun slinging old man. The thought itself had been hilarious, but the reality of the entire situation was more rousing than Craig wanted to recognize. What gravely pissed him off had been that Tweek went after the insane old coot in a heroic attempt to save Butters. When would Tweek have done that in the past, ever? Honestly, it was none of Craig’s business anymore, but it was just an irritating thought that hounded him a while following the instance. What pissed him off even more than that was that he had cared enough to tell Tweek to stop doing stupid things because it didn’t fit his personality. When in the past would’ve Craig done that, ever? 

Craig was now lying on the raggedy old couch in Token’s attic, the rest of his childhood friends gathered around on the attic floor. It was late in the night, and the guys were still recovering from their traumatizing experience of the evening. They were all attempting to loosen up in the attic, reminiscing on the many engaging stories from their turbulent childhoods with the enjoyable help of booze.

“You guys know what was really fucking weird?” Thomas asked excitedly, taking another swig from his bottle. “Tweek and Craig - _fuck_ \- pretended to date at one point. They pretty much dated. Like, what the fuck? How?” He chuckled. It seemed as if he considered this to be hilarious and perplexing simultaneously, his emotions magnified because of the booze.

Craig just stared at him, evaluating his statement, causing him to contemplate that entire bizarre period of his life for what was likely the first time. He had never reflected upon it in the slightest, which lead him to believe that he had been trying to repress some bothersome emotion that could have had inconvenient repercussions if he had realized it.

“Yeah, that was weird. I have no idea how we made it so convincing,” Craig said monotonously, deciding not to dwell on it, as usual. After all, it would only cause unnecessary inconveniences.

Craig looked at Tweek, who was shifting between Jimmy and Butters, uneasiness radiating off of him to a greater extent than Craig could remember. This was strange; Tweek seemed to have become calmer since the last time Craig had seen him four years ago. Well, some things never change, Craig thought.

 For some unexplainable reason this uncalled for thought made Craig fee slightly more contented than earlier.

“Craig has had sex with half of the girls in our year, by now,” Token said, and turned to face Craig. "The idea of you being gay is probably the most laughable thing now."

Was it that fucking inconceivable? This was another thought Craig preferred not to continuously dwell on, but his friends’ unexplained fondness for pointing out his stagnant sexuality could get quite aggravating. Craig liked girls, just girls, and yeah we’ve heard it all before.

“S-Seriously, h-h-how many girls have you b-banged up to now? Wait, how many are there in our year?” Jimmy joked along with the rest. Jesus, this could get annoying.

“How about you Jimmy?” Craig asked in a lackluster attempt to get all of the sudden, unwanted attention off of himself.

“H-Hmm, let’s s-see. There was that b-b-blond chick on Fuh-Friday, a brunette on Sunday...Hmm...,” Jimmy said jokingly, feigning deep thought as he reflected on the number of girls he’d fucked.

“Too many to count, clearly,” Thomas taunted.

“And how m-many girls- Oh sorry, I meant guys; have y-you s-slept with, T-Thomas? Care to f-factor in?” Jimmy said, undeterred by Thomas’s previous remark.

“At least I- _shit_ \- only fuck humans,” Thomas retorted.

The two continued their aimless bickering for a while, Butters and Token chiming in themselves, mostly for the purpose of settling Jimmy and Thomas down. All the while Tweek was staring out the large attic window above them, fully inattentive to the whole peculiar conversation happening among his overly boisterous friends.

Tweek was as pretty as he had always been, and it still caused Crag minor irritation, though he didn’t feel too strongly about anything. For some obscure reason, Tweek’s unconventional yet still somehow ‘cute’ appearance made his strange quirks look pleasant and endearing to a fair amount of people. Though this also contented Craig to some degree, or at least it had when they were friends, as it gave Tweek an advantage concerning his incompetence with basic social interactions, an advantage Tweek had most certainly been in need of.

To elaborate, what Craig had meant by ‘pretty’ was most definitely not alluding to the typical image of conventional beauty, but more referring to Tweek’s appearance as being intriguing and overall pleasant to look at. Craig didn’t think much of this though, as per usual.

All of a sudden Tweek turned his head, realizing Craig had been outright staring at him as he looked out the window for the past couple minutes. Tweek’s cheeks reddened, his gaze shifting to the attic floor in typical Tweek fashion. Craig felt himself smile. What made this all the stranger was that it had been a hot minute since the last time that happened.

Of course Tweek took notice of this, which reminded Craig of Tweek’s bizarre habit of noticing the exact things that Craig didn’t want him to.

To escalate the irregularity of the situation Tweek burst out laughing, so sincerely it seemed as if he hadn’t laughed in his entire four years away from South Park. It was an odd, but pleasant sound.

“What’s funny?” Craig asked, confused.

“I don’t know Craig,” Tweek spoke between muffled giggles, “I think the last time I saw you smile was when they first started airing Red Racer reruns after it got cancelled. You, you of all people, were obsessed with that show for fucking ever. Craig Tucker, toughest eighth grader, in love with a cartoon for ten year olds,” He said, intrigued.

“Red Racer was a great show. You know it, don’t lie, Tweek,” Craig retorted. He didn’t care so much about Red Racer anymore, if at all, but he did care that he and Tweek were having an honest-to-God discussion for the first time in four fucking years. He never considered it happening again and would have been fine had it not, but nevertheless it felt nice.

“It was alright, not worth the obsession, in my opinion,” Tweek said. “I may have been a weird kid, but come on, that was kooky as Hell. I remember you'd stay up till two in the morning, some nights, binge watching it over and over again.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Craig said, his tone of voice remaining unreadable as ever. This was a unimportant conversation to have, yet he found himself happy to be having it. “If we’re having a weird-off your weird shit would outnumber anything I ever did. I know every mind-fucking moment you’ve ever had or caused.”

“I- Most of those were because of unforeseen circumstances,” Tweek mumbled, acting irritated.

“Unforeseen circumstances? So I guess that one time you lied to Wendy about where Stan was, in seventh grade, because Stan and Kyle were your OTP at one point was just due to an unforeseen circumstance?” Craig said, laughing at the memory. Tweek’s strange Stan/Kyle shipping had been bizarre, but kind of hilariously cool, too, in a fucked up sort of way.

“Okay that- What about when you had a thing for Thomas just because he got to swear without getting shit for it?” Tweek retaliated, laughing.

“Okay dude, you know you thought that was cool, too. Everyone did, I just said it. Besides, he doesn’t care. I hope,” Craig said , glancing over at Thomas who was still in a passionate argument with Jimmy. Craig understood Tourette’s to the extent a non-affected person could now, and thought Thomas was cool for reasons other than just the one Tweek preferred to mention. “Anyway, that time in sixth grade when everyone made you believe Cartman was in love with you takes the cake. You tried to stage your own death, what the Hell?

 “Ugh, never mind, I don’t know what I was thinking. That was just one of my usual overreactions. Or maybe not. Cartman is a psycho, what would you have done?” Tweek questioned.

“Probably kicked his ass, but that wasn’t a viable option for you. Cartman was huge, and you were as tiny as you are now. Makes sense that you pretended to kill yourself,” Craig said with a slight smile.

“What do you mean 'as tiny as I am now'? I'm not that small!" Tweek protested.

"You're still in denial about that?" Craig mocked, and purposely moved to the edge of the couch to make it look more like he was hovering over Tweek.

"Shut up, giant," Tweek said, trying to swat Craig away. Craig grinned, slumping into the couch's cushions. 

Tweek remained silent for a while, eyebrows knit together in thought. “I was a fucked up child, wasn't I? it might be safe to say I’m the weirdest kid in South Park, whether I'm South Park or not. My weirdness transcends city borders,” Tweek said, sounding slightly dejected.

“Yep. But Butters is still around and still weird as fuck, so there’s still hope for you yet, I guess,” Craig said.

“What about me?” Butters interrupted. One of their friends decided to join in on their cornball conversation.

“I guess there is,” Tweek said, ignoring Butters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some genuine Creek interaction. Yeah, they'll thankfully be more of this now cause the story's actually progressing. Idk, thanks for reading.  
> Also sorry for the late update, this chapter's kinda shorter but'll try to do more. I'm updating on Saturdays from now on, earlier if i manage to finish before then. Oh yeah and hopefully some Style in the next one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek and the gang set out to investigate the Stan/Kyle thing.

The guys talked late into the night, recalling the most exciting periods of their high school lives along with their favorite childhood experiences. Tweek enjoyed hearing these, especially the one's involving him in some way.

“Remember that time in, like, third grade when you and Timmy got into a massive fight over who the resident cripple kid was? Oh God, that was terrible and kind of funny at the same time dude, we were such awful fucking kids,” Token said, addressing Jimmy, who just laughed candidly in response.

“Honestly though, you invaded his territory, what were you expecting?” Craig joined in, also addressing Jimmy.

“That w-was real business, okay? T-Timmy and I w-were being _totally_ legit and _t-totally_ professional, and we’re g-great friends now. You’re one t-to talk, dear C-Craig, when you a-and Tweek were suckered into fighting each other b-by the idiot crew, also known as C-Cartman, Kyle, K-Kenny and Stan. Jesus C-Christ, now that was fucking h-hilarious,” Jimmy mocked.

Oh yeah, that was a Hell of a time, Tweek thought. The gory details of the fight were vague and few in Tweek's mind, but he could never forget the consequence. The fight had started Tweek and Craig’s unlikely friendship, so in conclusion it had not been a bad thing.

“Oh my God, yes, the lamest fight I’ve ever seen and yet you both landed in a hospital for like a week after,” Token added, laughing his ass off.

“Ha-ha, pussies,” Thomas commented.

“Want me to show you a ‘lame’ fight now, Token? I’d be happy to,” Craig said, sounding cold and detached as usual. This got Token to keep quiet, although he was still laughing like a madman.

“You know what’s weird, though?” Tweek said, deciding that joining in would ease the tension he was feeling. “The fact that we were both in the hospital afterwards for the same amount of time means that I was actually as strong as you at one point. Like, you may have kicked my ass but I kicked yours right back, how fucking awesome is that?” He felt a little too pleased by this sudden insight, because the idea of his strength being leveled with Craig’s now is about the most absurd you’d ever hear.

“Yeah T-Tweek, you should t-try kicking his ass now, go for it, dude. And while y-you’re at it why d-don’t you try taking Cartman d-down, too? B-Better yet, to give them the a-advantage they so c-c-clearly need, you should just take them both on at once. You’d s-still have to take it easy on them, though,” Jimmy said sarcastically, unable to keep a straight face.

Tweek couldn’t help but laugh. The idea was hilarious and entirely implausible, and caused Tweek to feel uneasy due to the sheer absurdity of the thought.

“Well Jimmy if you’re so cocky you should step in for him, I’m sure you’d do both Cartman and me in a lot better. Just try, it'll go well for you,” Craig said, also somewhat amused by his sarcastic remark. “We should go two on two, make it easier for me and Cartman.”

“You’d f-fight a c-cripple?” Jimmy joked, pretending to be astonished, but clearly un-offended. "Wuh-Wu-Why, Craig? And to think I c-c-considered you one of my dearest friends up to now. Oh, the b-betrayal!"

“That’s probably your cheapest cop out,” Craig pointed out.

"What a great audience," Jimmy carried on teasing.

“I’d fight him for you, Jimmy,” Tweek said. This was a bogus statement, caused likely by the alcohol in Tweek’s system, but Tweek felt confident saying it. He was freaking out a bit though, alcohol or no.

" _My h-hero_ ,” Jimmy said, sounding even more sarcastic than before. Beside him Butters seemed at the risk of suffocating from uncontrollable laughter.

“In all seriousness, Butters probably has a better chance of taking me down than the two of you combined. Tweek you’d probably die if you tried yourself,” Craig said with a smirk, evoking another onslaught of loud laughter from Butters.

“Yeah, I’d die from getting so scared of myself and how strong I am that I’d have a heart attack, right after kicking your ass. And maybe Cartman’s. He’s so fat though, so I'm still debating whether to beat him too, or not,” Tweek said, picturing the impractical scenario. Damn, booze can make even the spaziest of people cocky assholes, Tweek thought.

Initially Craig’s surprise at this overconfident and out-of-character response was apparent, but he soon regained his usual impassive expression. “Well either you’ve had a lot to drink or you really have changed,” He said.

At this point Tweek was almost entirely certain that his sudden, bizarre personality change was caused by a fusion of both.

“Oh I know h-how about all three of us, so Tweek, Butters and me, v-versus just y-you? Would you still be able to waste all of our weak little asses?” Jimmy brightly suggested.

“All three? Well now I’m scared. Sorry gotta back down, it’s for my own good,” Craig teased, much to the relief of Tweek’s irrational paranoia.

“Whatever guys, at least your fights eventually turned into friendship, imagine the opposite,” Butters muttered, not expecting anyone to notice or care.

“Are you hinting at something? Do you feel like - _shit_ \- talking your heart out? If so please do, we’d love to make fun of your troubles,” Thomas said.

“I’m not talking about myself, Thomas; I’m talking about the whole Stan/Kyle thing at the end of sophomore year. I know no one’s ever talked about it because it’s like one of those things, but am I the only one who thinks that’s weird as fuck? Like I know none of us are really all that close anymore, but I sure as Hell didn’t see that one coming,” Token explained, contemplatively.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t get that either. I was actually wondering about it a while after, too. No one said anything about it, though. Like it was better if everyone just left it alone,” Token said.

“Maybe they were fighting over who gets to top,” Craig suggested, in his usual nonchalant manor.

Everyone laughed at the suggestive comment, knowing that they had all thought of something similar at some point in regards to Stan and Kyle’s fight and just the two of them in general.

“Seriously though, that may have not been physical but it must’ve been a Hell of a fight. Thomas you’re friends with Kyle, has he ever said anything to you?” Butters continued.

“Yeah right, that guy won’t even be in the same room as Stan, let alone say his name. Besides, Kyle doesn’t really hang out with anyone unless - _fuck_ \- he has to, so we’re like lunch friends. He prefers to not hang out outside of school most of the time, as far as I can tell. It’s probably - _shit_ \- been like that since Stan,” Thomas said casually.

“You guys really love gossiping,” Craig indicated.

“Has anyone ever tried, like, asking him up front and that?” Tweek wondered. From what he’s heard, no one had out of fear that it will agitate him. Tweek remembers Kyle having a fiery temper, but not it being this fucking fearsome.

“Well, I mean- No, not really, not that I know off,” Thomas said, the simple idea of just asking Kyle leaving him at a loss for words. Was it that incredible?

“I mean, I get you wanting to stay out of his business, but if you really cared you should’ve just asked, and maybe, you know, helped him. I’m pretty sure that now, after almost two years he’d be less standoffish about telling you,” Tweek said.

“Whoa, you g-guys have really n-never thought of that b-before? D-Dumb fucks,” Jimmy mocked.

“Shut up, asshole, you’re in this just as much as we are. You were his friend too at one point, in fact probably more than some of us,” Thomas scolded.

“Well, this just got a little too deep for my liking,” Craig said indifferently, before leaving the attic.

“Ugh, I really h-hate to admit it but, he’s right, that g-got too f-fucking real,” Jimmy pointed out.

“Do you really think they’ll never talk again?” Tweek asked, disregarding Craig’s abrupt exit. “This is just a high school fight, it can’t be that serious.”

“They may not be serious, but the fights we have in high school sure are fucking intense,” Token said.

After Craig’s unanticipated exit the lively atmosphere among the guys died down, with everyone eventually claiming to be over the turbulent events that took place earlier that same evening, and taking their leave. Tweek was the last to go, taking off from Token’s mansion at around three thirty in the morning.

He walked to his house, the chilled, late-night breeze biting at his cheeks as he pondered the bizarre events that took place tonight. Tweek got chased by a psycho with a gun, knocked said psycho unconscious, talked to Token for the first time in four years, talked to Craig for the first time in four years, and found out some rather interesting information about Stan and Kyle’s fight, or lack thereof.  Suffice it to say that this was a lot for Tweek’s fragile mind to process in just one night.

As he neared his snow-covered house, Tweek’s infamous anxiety returned to him, reminding him that his parents would now go on a longwinded tirade about the severe troubles caused by staying out so late while not even bothering to call. Tweek braced himself while unlocking the front door to his house, only to find a dark, desolate living room upon opening it. His parents must have gone to sleep early, thinking he had come home himself. This was relieving, and allowed Tweek to go to bed feeling more contented than he had in a while.

Monday morning had come all too quickly. Mondays had always been the worst. Out of all the weekdays, they likely caused Tweek the most intense anxiety, as they signified the start of yet another dreadful week of school. Coupled with the fantastic events of Tweek’s previous evening, his usual anxiety caused by Mondays was magnified to a troublesome degree. This also made it difficult for Tweek to get out of bed, a task which was impossible in general.

As Tweek liked to believe he was a new man now, (though this was probably not the case) he strived to suppress his anxiety, if only slightly, on his way to school. He met up with Thomas and Kyle before homeroom began, striking up a trite discussion with Thomas about whether or not Call of Duty is better than Halo, while a drowsy Kyle spaced out.

If there was a single gratifying thing about Mondays it was that most of Tweek’s classes were with people he knew and could talk to, including both Thomas and Kyle. Tweek’s first couple classes were dull for the most part, much to Tweek’s relief. Biology was a minor exception though, due to Cartman’s unruly presence causing the class to be a riot half the time.

Lunch rolled around soon, allowing Tweek to ease up at the thought of having only a couple of tedious classes to go through before returning to his cozy, inviting bed.

“So are you going to – _shit_ \- ask him today, or what?” Thomas eagerly asked Tweek.

“Going to ask who what?” Butters interrupted.

“Kyle about the Stan the thing. Tweek was – _fuck_ \- all wise-ass about it yesterday, yet it doesn’t look like he has the balls to ask him now,” Thomas explained, a knowing smirk on his face.

“I was just like, advising you guys. I haven’t seen Kyle in forever, if I asked him now he’d probably punch me in the face. Sorry, but I think I like my nose the way it looks, I don’t need Kyle breaking it,” Tweek said. He did _not_ want to arouse Kyle’s infamous temper, causing Tweek to understand why no one had asked Kyle yet. Also it was kind of none of their business, but Tweek doubted his friends cared about that.

“ _Ugh_ , come on. I was _really_ looking forward to a fight today,” Thomas said, dragging out his words like a spoiled toddler.

“Then go punch Cartman or something,” Tweek said.

“Are you going to ask him then?” Token asked, appearing unannounced at Tweek’s side. Tweek was somewhat surprised that he was talking to them during school hours. Token was pretty popular, after all.

“Ugh, not you, too,” Tweek whined. This was getting annoying.

“Will you? It’s been two years, I think everyone wants to know,” He explained.

“And you’re making the kid who wasn’t even there when all that shit happened ask? Tell you what, and I’m serious, I’ll ask him if you guys punch Cartman in the face,” Tweek suggested, as all four boys made their way toward Kyle’s table.

“I would but it’s not a fair deal. We’d get our asses kicked and Kyle would just be super pissed off. That’s not even,” Token said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Kyle wouldn’t have a problem punching me, you know since I’d be asking while also not knowing what the fuck I’m talking about since I wasn’t here when all that shit want down,” Tweek explained, annoyed at having to repeat himself.

“Fair enough,” Token said, sounding slightly dejected.

“Looks like you guys had a good time last night,” Kyle commented as the guys took their seats, Token making his way to his usual table inhabited by Stan, Craig, Clyde and Kenny.

“It was insane,” Butters said, proceeding to retell the unbelievable events of their previous evening, while Kyle read his book and pretended to listen.

“Whoa, that’s a lot of shit happening all in one night. How are you guys not dead?” Kyle said upon Butters ending his vivid story narration.

 “Right! It was fucking impossible. The great Craig Tucker actually hanging out with us, I couldn’t believe it,” Thomas added jokingly.

“That actually is weird,” Kyle observed, “Tweek did you talk to him yet?”

“I- Ugh, yeah, why?” Tweek said, taken aback by Kyle’s interest in such a bizarre topic.

Kyle didn’t respond, just looked straight at Tweek for a couple of seconds, before returning his attention to the book in his hands.

Tweek’s last class of the day was P.E., his least favorite for obvious reasons. It was as exhausting and uneventful as any other lesson had been, and caused Tweek to crave the end of the school day all the more. Mid lesson, Kyle, who had been in Tweek’s P.E. class, badly sprained his ankle while attempting to dunk a basketball, something he had otherwise always excelled at. A while after these events, Tweek was called out of the lesson to take Kyle to nurse’s office since he had been the first person Kyle thought of. Tweek would’ve been glad to help Kyle out, as it meant he’d get to escape that god-awful P.E. lesson just to help his friend, but Kyle’s intense temperament had been shaken by his ankle injury, and it made him a lot less pleasant to hang around.

“You’re pissed off,” Tweek said, pointing out the obvious on their way to the nurse’s office. He considered his statement a better choice than asking Kyle if he’s okay, knowing that would probably get Kyle angrier.

“Whoa really, Tweek? Thanks for letting me know,” Kyle replied sarcastically, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“Don’t take it out on me, it’s your own fault you tripped,” Tweek said.

“You know you’re annoying to be around sometimes, the new Tweek. I can’t imagine a time you would’ve said something like that in the past,” Kyle said. He was right; Tweek in his most anxious state would’ve never said anything sounding just slightly confrontational.

“You're serious? You’d prefer the old Tweek? I think you’re the only person that’s said that to me ever since I came back. It’s kind of consoling, in some weird sort of way. Thanks Kyle,” Tweek said, pleased by Kyle’s comment. Kyle was likely just speaking out of frustration, but it still felt somewhat satisfying to know that Tweek’s usual personality wasn’t a nuisance to everyone.

“I- Your welcome?” Kyle said, now sounding more confused.

“It’s just that it’s good to know that not everyone was so fucking annoyed at my anxiousness and that,” Tweek admitted.

“No, you were an alright kid. Better than Cartman, that's for fucking sure. If you ever get worried about being the most annoying person in South Park, just remember him and you'll be fine. But yeah, you were fun to hang around with sometimes,” Kyle said, easing up. Tweek had always been aware of Kyle and Cartman rocky relationship, and it seems to have gotten worse over time.

“Yeah, sometimes. Other times I was being an anxious, coffee junky freak. It may have been annoying to you guys, but trust me it was worse for me,” Tweek said.

“Yeah, sorry, anxiety must fucking suck.  But hey, you were okay, you had Craig to even you out then,” Kyle said, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Okay, what’s with you and Craig,” Tweek asked. He was so involved in their past relationship; it was almost as if he was hinting at something.

“What’s with you and Craig?” Kyle repeated the smirk still on his face. Tweek preferred him angry.

“Wait I- What are you- What do you mean?” Tweek questioned. This all was confusing as fuck. What’s with Tweek and Craig? They were friends ages ago, what the Hell was Kyle getting at?

“Oh look the nurse’s office,” Kyle pointed out before entering without another word.

Well Tweek wasn't going anywhere without hearing what Kyle wanted to say. It was extremely irritating, and forced Tweek back into his detrimental habit of over thinking things. Another thing that annoyed Tweek about this is that he cared so much. He wasn’t supposed to care at all.

“Oh, you waited,” Kyle stated as he walked out of the nurse’s office a while later.

“Obviously, cause I need to know what the Hell you’re hinting at,” Tweek said, not even trying to mask his annoyance.

“Okay, we can talk,” Kyle replied casually, beginning his walk down the hall leading to the school’s back exit.

“Whoa, that was easier than I thought. Oh wait, about what exactly?” Tweek asked, following after Kyle. He simply wanted to know what Kyle wasn’t telling him. That was it.

“About you and Craig,” Kyle said.

“How much is there to say? We were friends and now we're not? I just want to know what you’re hinting at dude,” Tweek explained.

“Yeah, that has to do with what I'm hinting at. You and Craig, since you really care to know,” Kyle said.

“There’s really nothing to say about that. We used to be friends, and then fooled the whole town by pretending to date for a while. Pretending. Are you planning to just recite your analysation of mine and Craig’s relationship to me, or?” Tweek felt genuinely confused at this point.

“Yeah, in fact, now I kind of want to,” Kyle said.

“Whoa, that’s not fair. We can’t have a whole sappy conversation about me and Craig. That would be terrible for me, and probably great for you, considering you’re so pleased when talking about the two of us. No, we need to add something that makes you equally uncomfortable,” Tweek suggested. He knew exactly what to ask, this was the ideal time for it.

“What do you want to know?” Kyle said, less relaxed than just minutes ago.

“You and Stan,” Tweek said, causing the unpleasant reoccurrence of his relentless anxiety.

Kyle visibly tensed, his facial expression turning unmistakably serious.

“Stan?  Stan Marsh? Me and Stan? What can I say about that?” Kyle asked, attempting to remain casual.

“Nice try. It’s pretty much on the same ‘sappy conversation’ level as talking about me and Craig, so that’d make us even. If you get to listen to me awkwardly talk about Craig, I get to listen to you awkwardly talk about Stan, to make everything less awkward for me,’’ Tweek explained, as they exited through the school’s back door, the cool winter breeze enveloping them as they stepped out.

 “Fair enough,” Kyle relented, with a sigh of exasperation. Tweek had been surprised by Kyle’s simple compliance, but it made sense because they were in similar situations, or because Kyle saw it that way. Tweek couldn’t.

They sat underneath the bleachers at the school’s snow-covered football field, both reluctant to say anything.

“Okay, who goes first?” Tweek asked, rattled by anxiety.

“Relax; we’re not banging or anything. I won’t kill you,” Kyle said. He sat with his back against the very edge of the bleachers, looking pensively onto the football field as he spoke, as if he were attempting to contemplate something grave.  

“So-,” Tweek tried to speak, but was interrupted by Kyle.

“I’m Stan’s best friend,” Kyle said, then caught himself. “I was Stan’s best friend. We did everything together; you couldn’t have one without the other. But you’d know that, when you were here Stan and I were almost inseparable. And it was great, for a while, it was so great. Even the worst shit was bearable, or even fun because of him. Just hanging out together, just being around him made me happy. When he was happy, that was the best, though. That was all I needed back then.”

Tweek didn’t know what to make of Kyle’s words; they just confused him all the more. But as Kyle spoke and elaborated, Tweek came to understand. He had felt that way about Craig sometimes, it just wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be, that’s how best friends are.

“I like to think it would’ve stayed that way had I not realized… Anyway, time passes and things change. There’s a big chance things won’t go your way when this happens, and of course for me everything that mattered changed. Being with him would always be great, but it started to hurt. It got to the point where seeing Stan made me feel like I was suffocating. First I hated it; I fought it because I didn’t know why, but… I’d never- We’d never be the same. That killed me. I never wanted to hurt Stan but I just couldn’t go on that way. It would hurt not seeing him, but being with him started feeling way fucking worse. So we stopped talking. Or, I stopped talking to him,” Kyle finished, staring across the football field with a solemn look in his bright green eyes.

“Kyle,” Tweek mumbled as he tried to process all of Kyle’s emotions.

“And that’s why I’m curious about you and Craig,” Kyle said, directed the attention off of himself and onto Tweek, now facing him as he regained nonchalant attitude.

“You think I’m in love with Craig?” Tweek guessed. If he had ever felt that way about Craig, the only plausible time was four fucking years ago.

“You could be, but that’s not what I’m saying here,” Kyle said, standing up.

“Then what? What was this all for?” Tweek questioned. What else could Kyle have to say?

“Seriously Tweek, you’re as oblivious as Stan,” Kyle sighed, as he slowly walked across the football field with a bewildered Tweek hurrying to keep up.

“I have no clue,” Tweek said. He really didn’t.

Kyle stopped abruptly, causing Tweek to bump into his back. He turned around, staring Tweek dead in the eyes, his previous grave expression returning to his face.

“Craig’s in love with you,” He announced, then just walked away.

Tweek was left dumbfounded, standing alone in the middle of the snowy football field, everything beyond it obscured by a rampant fog.

“But...” Was all Tweek could say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had time to update today, so that's great. Next one's probably on Saturday or later though. I'll try posting earlier. Also after this chapter I'm hopefully gonna start with actual interactions and stuff, so that's good.
> 
> Yay Stan and Kyle!  
> (Might add a little Kyman later, probably not though.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle's flashback to the time he ended his friendship with Stan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The *** signifies a FLASHBACK.

*******

Kyle hated afternoon naps. Not only did he consider them to be a waste of time, nut he had often woken up from naps feeling worse than he had felt before falling asleep. Despite this, Kyle had recently begun napping more and more. Whether he liked to admit it to himself or not, he had known the reason for this since its unfortunate beginning, though over thinking or attempting to resolve the issue would just lead to more undesirable difficulties that Kyle would prefer avoiding. So he’d just sleep, and then proceed to feel bad about it.

This was one of those days. Much to his dismay, Kyle had woken up at around six thirty in the evening, after the uninteresting contents of his Biology book had put him to a pleasant sleep. He had woken up feeling groggy and disoriented, as was usual after one of his impromptu naps. Though, there were benefits to Kyle’s nap-induced befuddlement, such as a temporary obliviousness to the reality of his thoughts. It took Kyle a while to collect himself, long enough to keep him somewhat inattentive to the continuous doorbell ringing echoing throughout his house. Oh, that’s right; Stan was coming at six thirty. Unusually for Kyle, Stan’s presence had been causing him a variety of unpleasant emotions for the past couple of months. The revolting feeling of anxiety in his stomach created upon his recognition of the doorbell’s ring began to grow, making him feel not far from throwing up the vile contents of his stomach all over his room. But no matter the extent of the panic eating away at him, this had to be done. The choice was between getting this over with and feeling this awful every time he looked at Stan. Selfish as it was, Kyle had made his decision.

“Hey,” Kyle greeted. He could hear the lack of enthusiasm in his voice as he spoke, but he found there was no use putting up a cheerful front, now. 

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while,” Stan said, a grin on his face.

“Yeah, I, uh, I’ve been tired lately,” Kyle said, and it wasn’t a lie, though tired was sort of an understatement. He had been emotionally worn out lately, struggling to come to terms with the inevitable fact that his feelings for Stan will never be satisfied. Although rather than being tired, it was more as if Kyle was avoiding Stan in order  to preserve his own feelings. Yeah, this was selfish, but not as selfish as what he was setting out to do at the moment.

“Sucks dude, but at least we can hang out now, that’s something. Oh yeah, I brought Guitar Hero, for old time’s sake,” Stan said, grinning as he walked into the living room and took as seat on the couch.

“I don’t- Never mind. How are things with Wendy going?” Kyle asked, changing the subject before the nostalgia could hit him. Not that asking about Wendy was any better; but at least it reminded Kyle of the bitter reality of the situation he was in rather than sending him into a dream world, which could only lead to severe disappointments. He easily succeeded in changing the conversation topic as Stan and Wendy’s on and off relationships had been on one of their downward spirals lately, so there was much to discuss.

“Dude, I came all this way to grace you with my presence and you want to talk about Wendy? Come on, dude, let’s watch something fun at least, we haven’t in a while,” Stan said jokingly, pulling Kyle down on the couch. "I saw this documentary a couple of days ago about this guy that-"

“I’m guessing since you’re avoiding the question things are bad?” Kyle interrupted, though he didn’t care to hear the answer at this point and was just stalling.

“Yeah, I guess, same as usual. She goes off about something I did that upset her somehow, and then I get mad in response to her being angry for something so stupid, because you know it’s probably just some stupid tiny detail at this point since we’ve had this argument so many times. This time it was because I spend too much time with the guys, including you. Or especially you. Anyway I said it was normal, because that’s what best friends do,” Stan explained , not even bothering to look away from the TV as he haphazardly flipped through channels.

“Well, um, good luck with that whole relationship, I guess,” Kyle said, unsure of how to respond. This hadn't been the first time Wendy felt neglected because of Kyle, so he was running out of things to say on the matter. The suitable advice for this situation would be to tell Stan to quit it if things are going this badly, but Kyle had always been hesitant about voicing his opinion in regards to Stan and Wendy’s turbulent relationship, dismissing it as being biased. 

“I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if it’s better if we break it off, but we’ve been at this for so long, it kind of seems pointless. I don’t know; it doesn’t even matter. Are you coming to Cartman’s party?” Stan asked.

“I- I, uh, I’m not sure. I think not. To be honest Stan, I’m really getting tired of this all,” Kyle said, his chest tightening with each word out of his mouth. It was as if the anxiety was numbing out every other sense in his body, leaving only the unpleasant feeling of apprehension.

“Yeah, the whole party thing really is getting old. They are all the same; if I wanted to get passed out drunk in the middle of the night I could just do it from the comfort of my own home,” Stan said, still relaxed.

“That’s not what I mean. I really can’t deal with, uh, us anymore,” Kyle said , surprised at his coherence considering the tormented state he had begun to sink into.

“Us? What do you mean by that?” Stan said, not panicked but clearly understanding that something’s wrong. Kyle felt his eyes sting with the threat of oncoming tears, his breath starting to speed up.

“I- Stan, don’t you think that at some point we should be done with this anyway? We’re just childhood friends, and those friendships aren’t all that great in the long run anyway. I’m so tired of it; at this point it just seems so forced, and kind of unnecessary,” Kyle wasn’t even looking at Stan anymore, just gazing straight ahead at his family portrait hanging on the teal living room wall.

“Wait. So you called me over to, like, break up with me?” Stan asked in disbelief. Kyle could feel Stan’s icy blue eyes on him, filled with the emotions of confusion and hurt.

“I mean, for lack of a better term, I guess.  And you can’t care much anyway, right? We’ve become so different that the only thing that binds us is that we were close when we were little and didn’t know any better. Your friends are probably confused as fuck as to why you’re still hanging out with a kid like me, and the same goes for my friends about you. It’s confusing and not really beneficial at all. It’s kind of tiring,” Kyle stopped, out of fear of the loss of breathe. He felt like he was suffocating, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Are you serious right now? Is that all this has ever been to you? So then the reason you were ever my friend was because ‘why not?’ No way! We were- We are- What the fuck, Kyle? Are you kidding or what the fuck are you doing right now?” Stan said, pissed off, hurt and offended.

“I’m sorry. At this point it’s become useless. We don’t even talk anymore. It’s like we’re communicating with default responses. That’s not how-”

“Default responses? What the Hell? If that was true we wouldn’t have ever been best friends to begin with! What are you doing Kyle? When did you become annoyed anyway? I can’t believe you. No way, maybe being trapped in the house for the last couple weeks is getting to you,” Stan said, refusing to acknowledge Kyle’s heavy hearted resolve.

“Stan I know what I’m saying. I’ve known for a while, you just didn’t notice because you’re fine with this, and I was too, but now it’s feels like a waste of time. We’ve got better things to do than pretending to be the same as we once were. It’s like you said about you and Wendy, we’re only still friends because we have been for so long, so stopping is pointless? But now it seems more pointless to go on,” Kyle couldn’t believe his own foul words as he said them.

“Kyle,” Stan pleaded, not angry anymore, just genuinely hurt and heartbroken. “Kyle, please tell me you’re kidding right now. We are not Wendy and me. I would never want to…” Stan stopped for a moment, and then went on. “Okay, if you’re tired I’ll be less annoying, if you’re mad just punch me. Don’t… Don’t do this. Why would you do this?” Even while looking away, Kyle could tell that Stan was at the verge of tears, enforcing the threat of his own falling. Kyle knew how much this friendship meant to Stan, but it could’ve ended worse. _I’m so sorry, Stan_ , he thought, _I really am_.

“The whole thing is kind if useless. Maybe it always was,” A tear trailed down Kyle’s cheek as he spoke, making him feel as if his insides had imploded. _No_.

“You don’t really- You can’t- Kyle,”

“We should just, uh, forget everything. It’d be easiest that way, for the both of us,” Kyle wanted to punch himself in the face for just saying such despicable things, for forsaking his and Stan’s friendship. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, to let all the pain and anxiety he was feeling escape him, but in that moment it seemed inescapable.

“Don’t, please don’t say that. Remember how great it was when we were kids. Just me, you, Kenny and Cartman. How we’d make fun of Cartman together because he was a dickhead, and he still is one. Remember it all, Kyle. We loved each other, and you know it. Please, Kyle, how could you forget? Come on, just remember,” Stan was definitely crying at this point, and it took all the self control Kyle had not to burst out into hysterical sobs right there and then. _I loved you too much, then_ , he thought.

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter if I remember or not. I don’t want to remember. It wasn’t- It’s not like it will change things now. This is over, Stan,” Kyle was in disbelief of the words flooding out of his mouth.

“Please,” Stan begged.

“I can’t do this Stan, not anymore,” Kyle concluded, his distraught gaze still fixed on the living room wall.

Stan stood still, staring at Kyle as if he had just ripped his beating heart right out of his chest. And he may as well have. Seconds later Stan made his way towards the front door, leaving his Guitar Hero behind.

As soon as the front door shut behind Stan, Kyle was left to break down into uncontrollable sobs, bawling his eyes out on his living room floor. His mind was a sea of overwhelming emotion, and he was left to drown in it. Kyle didn’t want to hurt Stan, ever, and the fact that that’s what he had just done made him hurt all the more.

“I’m sorry,” Kyle whispered in between sobs. “I just couldn't s-stop.”

*******

Around mid November the cold South Park weather had begun to drop considerably. Tweek had been fond of excessive snowfall, as it gave him a more credible excuse to remain in his warm, cozy bed for the majority of the winter months. However, since it’s become required of Tweek to spend a fair amount of his week days working, while also having to attend the unofficial prison that is school, he had found himself losing his once genuine appreciation for the chilly winter season. This was likely due to Tweek having to drag his reluctant ass out the comfort of his comfy bed every day and into the unforgiving cold. Despite the aggravating anxieties November’s wintry weather had created, Tweek wasn’t completely decided on hating it yet, as it had also prompted Tweek’s parents to give him Sundays off.

During these lazy Sundays, Tweek got the chance to ponder anything that had been on his mind in the days prior, and this way work through it before it caused him to burst into a flaming ball of pure anxiety, eradicating everything in its path in turn. Those Sundays had gotten harder over time though, as what was irking Tweek had gotten more difficult to process than any other mind-boggling thought his restless brain could think up. It was times like these Tweek wished he had been capable enough of basic social interaction to achieve just one successful long lasting friendship. At least that would’ve allowed Tweek to spill out his unruly emotions to his heart’s content, which would’ve been beneficial for his fragile state of mind. The best Tweek could do when left alone with his thoughts was pretend that they didn’t exist, out of the fear that if he noticed them, they would hurt him. So that’s what he did; if nothing out of the ordinary that could cause drama in Tweek’s future happened, nothing could rile his anxiety up. Tweek wasn’t about to allow his newly achieved, ‘normal’ self-image to be destroyed by what is just a farce Kyle made up because he was in a bad mood. What did Kyle know? It’s not like Kyle and Craig had ever been close enough to confess such drastic thoughts to each other. Tweek decided to forget it, and so the contemplative Sunday had passed.

Most of Monday had been uneventful as always, excluding lunchtime. This was Tweek’s first time witnessing the bizarre scene of Kyle joining none other than Eric Cartman for lunch. They sat at the table closest to the cafeteria’s exit, Cartman passionately ranting about something as nodded along.

“How come Kyle ditched us for Cartman?” Tweek asked, sitting with Jimmy, Thomas and Butters at their usual table.

“Oh yeah, that happens sometimes,” Thomas said, unfazed. “It’s been happening since Kyle and I started hanging- _fuck_ \- out. Every once in a while he eats with Cartman and he’s never said why, so I have no fucking clue.”

“Yep, he fights with Eric a lot, but they’re still friends. Neither of them would say it, and you wouldn’t guess it by the way they act toward each other,” Butters added.

“Weird,” Tweek said, confused by this unbelievable occurrence.

“M-My theory w-was that it’s some weird s-sentimental thing, l-like they’re subconsciously n-nostalgic. They m-miss their fucked up little fr-friend group from when they w-were ten, but both would die instead of a-admitting it. It’s totally f-fucked up,” Jimmy explained.

Tweek could understand this, as it had been his reasoning for Craig’s friendly behavior towards him. These innocent thoughts had been destroyed a while following Kyle sharing his improbable observation about Tweek and Craig’s relationship.

“Honestly, I kind of miss all that, too,” Butters said.

“Who c-cares, that w-was like eight years a-ago. B-Besides, if that all was i-important in any way don’t you think it would have l-lasted? None of the o-original friend groups are still together, w-we’re just scattered a-around and t-talk to each other maybe one’s in a b-blue moon only if we need s-something from someone,” Jimmy said, while picking the sesame seeds off of his burger.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I mean, not even Kyle and Stan are friends anymore, and they were attached at the hip,” Butters agreed, sounding dejected nonetheless.

“But I still miss it too, sometimes. Like, whether it was important or not, I miss it. Maybe because it was fun. Anyway, I get Kyle eating with Cartman; I would do the same if I could. And I think you would too, Jimmy, you’re just fucking around,” Tweek said. He did miss hanging out with Craig, Clyde and Token; he just couldn’t do much about it.

“What, are y-you organizing a r-reunion n-now or?” Jimmy said, annoyed.

“Oh that reminds me, isn’t Bebe having a party with most the kids from your elementary school this Friday? Are you guys going?” Thomas asked out of nowhere.

“I am, but n-not for the p-purpose of rekindling old friendships,” Jimmy said mockingly. “Getting d-drunk is way more fun in the c-company of others.”

“Of course that’s why you’d go. How about you two?”

“I don’t think my parents will let me. You guys know they never do,” Butters replied.

“I can’t b-believe your p-p-parents still boss you around so much. N-Nope, never mind, I can. They have always been the t-t-type that wouldn’t let an eighteen year old go out at l-least once."

“I’m not going either. Parties aren’t my thing,” Tweek said. He really hated parties. They were everything he disliked all wrapped up in one uncomfortable experience.

“Yeah r-r-right. I’m not going to o-one of those things alone; It’s g-going to be a shit show with all of us from elementary there, a-and I’m not going through that s-solo,” Jimmy said.

“Ugh, no, Jimmy, I really do not like parties, like, at all,” Tweek tried to reason, knowing already that this would not end well for him. He was still a pushover, whether or not he believed it.

“Come on, you just said you wanted to hang out with your old buddies again. I’m sure they’ll be there, they have to be, popular kids live to party,” Jimmy pushed on, taking advantage of Tweek’s people pleasing personality.  His method of persuasion was off though, because the fact that Tweek’s old friends, especially Craig, would be at the party made him even more adamant to refuse.

“Yeah, well never mind then. I don’t want to go, Jimmy, at all. Ask Thomas” Tweek was trying his hardest not to cave in.

“I would, but I’ve got my own stuff - _fuck_ \- on Friday, so it’s no good,” Thomas said.

“Come on, Tweek. I’ll probably attempt suicide by the end of the night if I go alone. Please,” Jimmy insisted, putting on a warped version of the puppy-dog face in attempt to successfully persuade Tweek.

“Ugh, yeah, fine. Not like I have anything better to do anyway,” Tweek relented, deciding that fighting this would get him nowhere. Looks like being a pushover is one of his most defining personality traits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry this is a pretty shitty chapter but the next one will be cool so never mind. I think I have a pattern of bad-good-bad-good lmao. Anyway I wanted to put in a Style flashback but it was too short so I just carried on writing, so the chapter split is all fucked up. Oh well. Also there will be Kyman, but only friendship, and I'm getting to some actual Creek so there will be some actual progress sometime. Definitely Style in the next chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bebe's party gets somewhat dramatic. (Part 1)

Friday rolled around all too quickly, leaving Tweek no time to brace himself for all the cringe worthy teenage antics to ensue at Bebe’s reunion party. Tweek was still dead set on avoiding the entire event, so he had to remind himself of the rational reasoning behind his initial agreement to attend. Jimmy. He was doing this to show his gratitude for Jimmy’s kindness to him throughout his turbulent childhood years. Although, in the majority of what Tweek can recall from those insufferable days of childhood, Jimmy had been the same sarcastic, wise-guy prick he is today. But still a good friend, so fuck it. Besides, this was the ideal opportunity for Tweek to further develop his current cool-guy attitude, and in turn abolish his characteristic past image as the resident spazoid, for good.

Upon seeing Bebe’s excited, cheerful expression as she greeted an irritated Kyle a couple seconds following Tweek’s unanticipated arrival, he wanted nothing more than to run the fuck away.

“Kyle, oh my God! Looks like everybody’s coming tonight! I mean, they have to if both you and Tweek dragged your antisocial asses out just to party with me. I guess no one can really resist me, I’m just that charming,” Bebe said, smiling.

 “Ha-ha, I told you I’m only here for the booze,” Kyle said, his irked facial expression somewhat resembling Craig’s default poker face, but with a slight anger to it. Stan really did a number on him, he changed so much.

“You’re really no fun nowadays,” Bebe mumbled, sounding less enthusiastic than just a couple of seconds earlier.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that too many times for me to be able to remember,” Kyle said as Bebe made her way towards a group of obnoxiously loud girls in the corner of the room. “Oh, hey Tweek didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Jimmy dragged me,” Tweek said. At the moment Tweek was in disbelief of his naivety considering the fact that he allowed himself to be dragged to this anxiety-inducing gathering by such an unreliable prick. Of course Jimmy had disappeared into the massive crowd of drunken dancing teenagers two seconds following their arrival.

“Figures,” Kyle said, his earlier expression remaining on his face. Tweek guessed that Kyle hated parties just as much as he did, which was yet another aspect of their personalities the two could relate on.

“So you only came to drink? Doesn’t really seem like you, if I’m honest,” Tweek said.  This was surprising, as four years ago Kyle had been the only one out of Tweek’s entire friend group to completely abstain from any dangerous teenage acts, such as drinking, smoking, or doing drugs.

“It’s not just drinking; I’ve got some shit to do since we’re all in the same place at the same time for once. Drinking is like my reward for showing up,” Kyle explained. Tweek refrained from asking what Kyle was up to, despite his curiosity. Kyle seemed to be in a worse mood than usual. This didn’t stop Tweek's raging paranoia from coming up with entirely improbable theories regarding Kyle’s unexpected attendance. Was he meeting up with someone? Someone bad? Oh God, what if he came here to see everyone one last time before killing himself?

“You’re not going to ask what it is?” Kyle questioned, surprised.

“It’s really none of my business. Also, you look like you’re not in the talking mood, and I can kind of relate to that right now,” Tweek said.

“Thanks. I’m aware you’re tired of constantly hearing this, but you’ve change Tweek. A lot. So I’ll respect that and resist asking you whether or not you’ve talked to Craig yet about the things that I told you,” Kyle said.

“No, I,” Tweek was pretty taken aback by the unusual comment.  “What would I even say? Hey dude, I know we’ve barely spoken for the past four years but, are you in love with me? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll get a great response.” For some bizarre reason he felt somewhat comfortable talking to Kyle about this, but a living room packed with partying high schoolers hardly seemed like the place to do it.

“Good point. Well, do with that information what you will. I’d talk to Craig about it if I were you, though that’s likely just to see the look on his douchey face.” They both appeared to have a strong dislike for one another, Tweek thought.  “Speaking of which, have you seen him?” Kyle questioned.

“Um, I got here only a couple minutes ago, so no, sorry” Tweek said. He wasn’t even aware Craig was coming. What would Kyle want with him?

“Ugh, I hate having to look for that stuck-up fucking asshole,” Kyle mumbled, annoyed. “Alright, thanks Tweek, see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah, see you,” Tweek said, watching Kyle fade into the cluster of restless teens standing behind him. And just like that, he was alone again. This was bad. Tweek needed something to distract him from the daunting anxiety threatening to envelop him, fast.

Attempting his best to avoid any contact with the drunken people dancing around him, Kyle made his way through the spacious living room of Bebe’s house. Parties weren’t his scene. After all, the one good thing about them was the free booze, and even that wasn’t all that great. They made it fun to be alive, but otherwise had a shitty taste going down.

What made this particular party all the more unbearable for Kyle was the aggravating fact that he had to waste a his time searching for an insufferable prick by the name of Craig Tucker. In fact, the asshole had been the sole reason Kyle had to drag his ass to this shit-show of a party, due to his desultory effort to do well or just act suitably in school, English class in this case. Of course, Kyle was still jerked around by teachers to do their dirty work for them as the former Student Body President, which in all honesty made absolutely no sense. This was Wendy’s job now; Kyle quit for a reason.

“Hey asshole,” Kyle said upon finding Craig in one of the upstairs rooms. Craig had a bottle in hand, and a familiar looking blonde girl sitting cheerfully at his side, his smug I-don’t-give-a-fuck smirk plastered on his face.

“What,” He said, not even bothering to look at Kyle.

“English. I’ve been trying to tell you about it for the past couple weeks, but you keep avoiding it,” Kyle explained.

Craig ignored Kyle’s comment, failing at pretending to be even slightly interested in what both the blonde sitting next to him, and Kyle had to say.

“Mr. Mitchell has been trying to get a hold of you for the past two weeks because of your shitty performance in class, not to mention your attendance. You already have a substantial probability of failing and it’s only November, he needs to talk to you about remedial courses,” Kyle continued, despite Craig’s disinterest.

“If I cared I would show up to the lessons, don’t you think?” Craig said in his nasally monotonous voice, not bothering to look at Kyle. “Stop talking about school, it’s a fucking party, why are you even here?”

“I don’t want to be here, and I don’t give a fuck whether you show up or not, I just need the teachers to stop riding my ass about it. Just tell them it’s better if Wendy or whoever helps you instead of me, and we can avoid ever having to talk to each other, and I can avoid being jerked around due to the likes of you,” Kyle said, not even trying to conceal his annoyance.

“Well, when you talk like that it just makes me want to have them jerk you around more. It’s funny,” Craig said, standing up and ushering the blonde out of the room.

“Yeah, funny things tend to happen around me. For instance, I had a quite funny conversation with Tweek about you the other day. Though he didn’t really laugh, he was kind of shocked out of his mind,” Kyle retorted, satisfied at the glimpse of emotion that flashed across Craig’s face.

“Oh, so you’re feeding him that bullshit theory about how I’m in love with him, great. Hopefully for him, he won’t take it too seriously,” Craig said, regaining his usual poker-face.

“We both know Tweek. That’s probably all he’s been thinking about. Does it feel good, Craig? To know that he’s finally thinking of you as much as you’ve been thinking about him for the past four years. Maybe you have a chance after all,” Kyle didn’t know where the Hell this was all coming from, but he didn’t care. He needed an outlet for all the pent up frustration that’s been accumulating within him for the past couple weeks. Or years.

 “I’m not the one of us who wants a chance with someone, though I can’t say that confidently because you never even tried for it,” Craig said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyle questioned, though he was well aware.

“It means what you think it means, Kyle. Don’t whine about not having something when you never even tried to get it,” Craig replied, sounding as bored as ever. Kyle didn’t want to think about this. Not now, not ever. Not at all.

“I-I don’t whine about not being with St- I can’t…- There was no way I could have ever been with him, no use in trying,” Kyle said, fully conscious of what a pathetic excuse that was.

“Or maybe there was, but you were just too scared to consider the possibility. What if he had rejected you? Your friendship would have been ruined. And because you were so afraid of that you went ahead and ruined it yourself? That doesn’t really make any sense, does it? Maybe you were scared of the consequences regardless of whether he rejected you or not. It was just easier to ignore it, right? To hurt him instead of getting hurt yourself. Makes you wonder, huh? Did you really love him? What if he did like you back? That would have been great, but think of all the shit you both would’ve gotten from others. It was a lose-lose situation Kyle, and we all know how good you are at self-preservation,” Craig declared. His words were so compelling, yet his expression remained stoic and detached as ever, his voice casual.

Did he think Kyle didn’t already think this through, time and time again? Kyle wanted so badly to strike him straight across his tactless face, taking out all of his suppressed frustrations on Craig and beating him to an unrecognizable pulp. But Kyle wasn’t that type of person. He was temperamental, yes, but just enough to convey his aggressions verbally. Although he was trying his hardest to refrain from even that, because in Craig’s speech he noticed something, aside from what he said being valid and just about entirely accurate. Almost as if he were addressing himself, the points Craig made sounded like those of someone who had been repressing the thought of them for a while, but they just came spilling out beyond their control. Maybe Kyle was delusional, but in this moment, if only for a second, he may have glimpsed a fleeting look of realization through Craig’s everlasting poker-face.

“Whoa um, I…- You- You’re right. I might’ve had a chance. You might have one now, though,” Kyle said, now feeling slightly panicked.

Craig’s main problem was that he couldn’t even admit his feeling to himself, let alone Tweek. He had likely repressed all ideas of romantic love in his mind, denying every single assumption Kyle had made in the past. But now he said nothing. Why?

“You aren’t going to say some evasive shit like ‘I don’t need a chance’?” Kyle asked, surprised by Craig’s sudden lack of resistance.

“Whatever,” Craig said quietly in his usual monotonous voice, as he disappeared through the bedroom door.

An hour following Tweek’s arrival the party was in full swing, yet he had spent the past hour cowering in the living room’s darkest corner. When he had said that he hated parties, he had meant it. The inevitability of them was agonizing, because one way or another if you were to attend, you’d always somehow, unbeknownst to yourself due to the influence of drugs and alcohol, end up in deep shit. So many things could, and would go wrong. In fact, parties had always been Tweek’s most prominent anxiety trigger, causing him to revert into his most vulnerable state, pulling his hair and biting his nails. With loud music, prolific amounts of social interaction, overly sexual, hormonal teenagers; parties were a dreadful combination of everything Tweek couldn’t stand and badly coped with.

“H-Hey where’d y-you go off to?” Jimmy said surprised, drunk and appearing out of nowhere with Red from elementary at his side.

“I’ve been here the whole time, man. You’re the one that went off,” Tweek said. He felt annoyed but too anxious to really say anything about it.

“Tweek? Oh my God, I heard you were back but I couldn’t see you anywhere in school” Red shrieked upon finally realizing Tweek’s presence.

“Hey, yeah, sorry I didn’t say hi,” Tweek said. He had never really been friends with Red and was pretty sure she didn’t give a shit about him. But she was still a nice girl, he thought.

“N-Never m-mind that now. Let’s go have f-f-fun! Y-You should come with us,” Jimmy said gesturing toward what Tweek assumed was the guest bedroom. “A bunch of us from Mr. G-Garrison’s class are going to p-play truth or d-dare, or spin the bottle or some shit. Come o-on, it’s more fun if there are more of us.”

Tweek could already feel himself getting more anxious at that. “N-Not my thing, Jimmy. You know me.” Oh shit, now he was stuttering.

“Oh come on, Tweek. I’m really looking forward to hanging out with you again, it’ll be fun,” Red said, causing Tweek to be unsure of whether she was flirting or not, bur either way it made him even less enthusiastic to play the game.

“Come on, T-Tweek. You’re a c-changed m-man now, chill and shit. Play the game, p-please,” Jimmy begged.

“Do you need me for some specific reason?” Tweek asked ; he was becoming more and more suspicious of them due to their irritating persistence. He could also feel his pulse quicken, his anxiety bolt. Tweek knew he would start pulling at his hair and biting his nails soon. He needed an escape route if he wanted to avoid reverting back into his infamous anxiety-stricken personality.

“N-No, the game’s just b-better with m-more people. We need a-all of u-us f-from Mr. Garrison’s c-c-class,” Jimmy explained, whining.

“Jimmy, I already did you a favor by coming. Let me live, dude,” Tweek said, exasperated.

“Yeah, and since you’re here you should have some fun! So you’re coming?” Red asked , though it sounded more like a statement.

 “Yeah, I guess,” Tweek would always be a pushover, for the life of him.

Mostly everyone from Mr. Garrison’s old class in elementary was randomly scattered around Bebe’s guest bedroom, either talking to each other in hushed voices or dancing to the pop music being faintly emitted from the living room. Tweek recognized the majority, most notably Stan and Cartman talking to each other as they would in the good old days. Weird.

As everybody formed a large circle in the center of the room to play the game, Tweek’s anxiety escalated abruptly, sending his hands pulling at his untamed hair. He still did in secret though, so no one would notice and cause his newly formed, chill image to be tarnished. But someone did, because Tweek’s hand was suddenly caught mid-pull.

“Chill,” Was all Craig said, and all he would say when unforeseen instances such as this one had arisen back when they had been friends. Oddly enough, Tweek did chill.

“Okay, so what faggy games are you making us play, Bebe?” Cartman asked, with his signature douchebag smirk on his face.

“I was thinking,” Bebe said sternly, side-eyeing Cartman. “We should play truth or dare. It should be fun, getting all of our secrets from years ago out in the open.”

“Like what? Everyone already knows that Stan and Kyle are gay for each other, what else is there to reveal?”  Cartman mocked, only to be harshly elbowed in the gut by Stan. Cartman was the only person in South Park douchey to mention Stan and Kyle in the same sentence since their big fight.

“Shut up, fatass,” Stan said.

“Aye! Don’t take your sexual frustrations out on me, go find Kyle,” Cartman said, still smirking, earning another elbow to the gut form Stan.

“Anyway,” Bebe interrupted, giving both Stan and Cartman another stern look. “Who wants to go first?”

They played a couple of turns, with some brief kisses and scandalous confessions occurring and earning exaggerated ooh’s and ahh’s from onlookers of the circle. Rather disinterested, Tweek just observed the exited teenagers while trying to stabilize his anxiety.

“What even happened to Mr. Garrison?” Craig, who had been sitting by Tweek the entire time, asked.

“Huh? Oh, who knows? That guy was a nut job; he’s probably doing some crazy shit. Or he’s in prison. All I know for sure is that he’s definitely being _super_ gay, wherever he is,” Tweek joked.

“Probably,” Craig said, grinning at the joke. “You’re right, though; the guy was insane. Who the fuck even allowed him to teach children? Fourth graders, even,” Craig pointed out.

“He’s not the only psycho that worked with us when we were children. Remember Ms. Crabtree?” Tweek asked, cringing at the thought of her. She had been a major influence to his anxiety back when he was a kid.

“Oh shit, yeah, what a crazy bitch. I won’t say much about her though, she still had a pretty bad way to go,” Craig said, pokerfaced as usual despite the horrifying memory he was mentioning.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Tweek said. Her death scarred him even more than her harsh mannerisms.

“Oh yeah, that was pretty bad for you. You couldn’t go anywhere near the part of town where they found her. And you were so freaked out the Left Hand Killer was going to get you at that time, I had to stay over every night and check underneath the bed before we slept,” Craig said, a light laugh escaping him at the thought.

“It’s not funny, that was traumatizing,” Tweek explained, feeling annoyed but amused at the same time.

“You even made me sleep with you,” Craig said, still stoic as ever, yet entertained by how uncomfortable the memory made Tweek. “And that was before we were ‘together’.”

“Ha-ha,” Tweek laughed sarcastically, trying to hide his blushing face. “That was a onetime thing. Not like we did anything while we were ‘together’.”

“Really? Did you actually forget or are you pretending? Because we were pretty much a couple,” Craig said, clearly joking.

“Yeah, a _fake_ one,” Tweek pointed out; his face was red as fuck now, he could feel it. Why was talking about his fake relationship with Craig having this embarrassing effect on him? He could barely look Craig in his enthralling dark blue eyes.

“Whatever you say, Tweekers,” He said casually, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Okay, Craig, your turn,” Bebe’s voice announced, breaking Tweek and Craig out of their reminiscent conversation. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” He said nonchalantly, surprising Tweek. In the past, Craig was more of a practical guy, likely to choose truth over dare as he preferred to avoid doing extravagant tasks, the likes of which were set at this type of party.

“Kiss Red. French her,” Bebe ordered.

“Bebe!” Red interrupted, shocked by the dare.

“What? You two dated, didn’t you? It’s more fun this way, come on,” Bebe explained, not about to take no for an answer.

So Craig got up and kissed her. With no hesitation, he went straight in for the kiss as if was the least significant thing he could ever do. Or maybe he wanted to kiss her. This was all Tweek could think about as he watched Craig’s lips move against Red’s, causing her to moan faintly into him. Tweek willed himself to look away mid kiss, because of the occurrence on an unfamiliar feeling starting to eat away at his insides. He was really uncomfortable, but not as he was used to, more like an angry discomfort growing every second he chose to remain unmoving as Craig kissed Red. Tweek wanted to do something, to stop it, although he obviously couldn’t. But why did he feel this way in the first place?

“Whoa, R-Red, you m-must’ve really e-enjoyed that, you moaned so l-loudly the whole of South Park probably thinks C-Cartman’s mom is at work again,” Jimmy mocked, causing Red to blush and quickly take her seat next to Bebe.

“Aye, want to repeat that Jimmy?” Cartman questioned.

“Never m-mind, I just said your m-m-mom’s really cool,” Jimmy said, grinning.

They continued the repetitive game, as a confused Tweek sat in silence, pondering his incomprehensible feelings evoked by Craig kissing Red. Why did Tweek even care? More importantly, why the Hell was he jealous?

“Kissing you was better,” Craig said suddenly, sounding as casual and careless as ever.

“Huh?” Tweek said, confused and surprised by the sudden statement. Nevertheless, he could feel himself blushing.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember that either?” Craig asked, causing Tweek to conclude that this was just banter.

“I-I actually don’t,” God damn it, he was stuttering now.

“Sixth grade, the guys made us prove we were legit in a relationship by having us make out,” He said smirking at the thought.

“Ugh, oh my God. Yeah, how could I forget my first kiss and the most uncomfortable shit I’ve ever done in my entire life,” Tweek said, now red as a tomato.

“First of all, that was your first kiss? Secondly, that was in no way uncomfortable, it was _magical_ ,” Craig said, putting comedic emphasis on the word magical.

“Yep, my best friend was the first person I ever kissed. Isn’t that great?” Tweek said sarcastically. “Also, I do apologize, that kiss was the shit I have to admit it.”

“Of course, because it’s me you were kissing,” Craig added, causing Tweek to feel giddy with contentment, for reasons beyond his knowledge.

“I didn’t date you for your kissing skills, though, if I’m honest. The biggest benefit of ‘dating’ you had to be the protection. Everyone was scared of you,” Tweek admitted.

“Seriously?” Craig asked in his usual monotonous voice.

“Yeah, I mean, you didn’t deal with bullshit, even in sixth grade. And I was a paranoid kid and anxious all the time, so knowing I had someone to beat others up for me was pretty cool,” Tweek explained, feeling the blush in his cheeks fade as he slowly calmed down.

“So you agreed to fake date me because I could beat people up for you?” Craig asked, surprised.

“I mean, when you put it that way it sounds pretty shitty. What I meant is more like, you being there helped me cope,” Tweek pointed out.

“You know you didn’t have to date me for protection? I would’ve done it anyway, because we were best friends,” Craig said.

“Whoa really? But you’ve never really done that for your other friends, like Token and Clyde,” Tweek said, thinking over Craig’s statement. “Maybe, coz we were best friends?”

“Could be,” Craig said, as though he was just as uncertain.

“Okay, now Tweek!” The girls announced, causing Tweek to jerk uncomfortably. “Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth, I guess,” He said, anxiety striking him almost straight away. _Oh no_ , he thought nervously, _what were they going to ask?_

“Hmm, okay,” Nicole said as she thought up the perfect question. “Have you ever, or do you now, have a crush on anyone in this room?”

“You have to be completely honest!” Bebe added.

“Um, I,” Tweek really had no idea what to say. Did he? He figured a crush was when you had an intense adoration of someone unattainable, and he couldn’t recall ever feeling that way toward anyone in this room. Everyone was unattainable for Tweek, but he never adored anyone in particular. Adoration requires love and respect, and the only person he had ever felt that strongly for that was present in the room was his former best friend.

“Yes,” Tweek said finally, surprising himself but more obviously everyone around him.

“What? Seriously, who?” Bebe asked, sounding a little too interested.

“One truth per person,” Nicole interrupted, moving on with the game.

Tweek glanced at Craig, who looked pokerfaced as ever, chatting with Anne who had been sitting beside him. Luckily for him, he’ll never know the truth, Tweek thought. After all, it took Tweek this long to admit something so obvious to himself, there’s no way he could ever muster up the courage to tell Craig. What if he knew already?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so freaking long to update, I just had so much to do (yeah, this is a really common excuse but it's true). The chapter is pretty short considering how long I was gone, but there's a part two which I will actually post soon. Hopefully some actual Style and maybe Creek action in that one (by that I mean real action), but this is all for now. I will try to update more but idk if things will come up, oh well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bebe's party gets even more dramatic.

The party continued long into the night and by around one in the morning Tweek was still trapped in the same guest bedroom of Bebe’s house he had spent the last however many hours in, playing generic party games with his drunk crowd of childhood friends. At this point almost everyone from Mr. Garrison’s old class had gathered in the room, with the exception of a few that had moved away from South Park over the past couple of years. And Kyle. Tweek hadn’t seen him since his unanticipated arrival at the party, which was worrying to say the least. This also amplified the unpleasant feelings caused by Tweek’s increasing anxiety, present due to the unfamiliar party atmosphere surrounding him.

“Hey, Bebe, have you seen Kyle around?” Tweek asked Bebe as she intently observed Jimmy and Nicole’s heated game of beer pong.

“Huh?” She said, turning around to answer Tweek. “Oh, I saw him in the kitchen a while ago I think; he was getting wasted.”

Hardly a surprise, Tweek thought. “You think he’s still there? Or at the party at all?” Kyle himself had previously said that high schooler parties were only ever good for one thing- drinking, so Tweek doubted that he’d remain for any longer than was required for him to get thoroughly shitfaced.

“I don’t know, Tweek. If I know Kyle at all, which he aggressively likes to insist that I don’t, he won’t stick around for too long before returning to his little antisocial bubble. That’s all I can say about him. I don’t really want to talk about him, anyway,” Bebe said, sounding a bit too emotional for Tweek’s liking, which was an immediate giveaway of her intoxication. It was now apparent to Tweek that Bebe was an emotional drunk, and she had to have been tipsy enough at the moment witha strong feelings towards Kyle to have her insignificant rant about him bring her to the literal verge of tears.

“Yeah, okay, you don’t have to. Just, um, look over there! Anne and Scott Malkinson are making out,” Tweek pointed out in a hurry, attempting to get Bebe’s mind of Kyle.

She spun her head around, playfully teasing the blushing pair along with a couple of others, as Tweek made his way out the door to look for Kyle.

“Where’re you going?” Craig asked, suddenly appearing at Tweek’s side as he exited the crowded room.

“I’m looking for Kyle,” Tweek said as he scanned Bebe’s packed living room. “Haven’t seen him since the party started.”

“He’s gotta be fine,” Craig said, sounding as disinterested as ever.

“I don’t really know about that. That guy seems like he’s running on empty lately. Not okay. I’m not even sure how his friends haven’t picked up on it yet. Have you?” Tweek questioned. In all honesty, Kyle did seem quite emotionally exhausted since the first time Tweek had seen him again.

“Not sure. Kyle does like to keep busy, but ever since a while ago he’s just nonstop occupied, if that’s what you mean,” Craig suggested.

“Yeah, something like that,” Tweek said, now with a slight idea of what Kyle’s problem was. Ever since his unfortunate final interaction with Stan, he had to have been emotionally strained and attempting to somehow distract himself from the feelings caused by the instance. So he kept busy, and is still keeping busy.

“He’s probably doing it to get his mind off Stan and that,” Craig said nonchalantly, now also scanning the crowds of hyper teenagers.

“Uh, what?” Tweek said, now afraid that Craig had the ability to read minds.

“You aren’t the only one who knows about it, Tweek. It’s you and me, and I get the feeling that Cartman knows something too, but not the whole truth,” He continued.

“How’d you know I know?” Tweek asked, still irrationally suspicious of Craig’s assumed clairvoyance. If Craig knew about Kyle’s unrequited affections towards Stan, he may also be aware of Kyle’s bizarre theory about him being in love with Tweek, which would without a doubt make for an uncomfortable and plain difficult situation for both of them. Especially now that Tweek was sure of his own feelings for Craig and the high possibility that Craig doesn’t like him back and never will.

 “I just guessed,” Craig said after an awkward and long period of silence.

Tweek didn’t respond, eyeing Craig suspiciously with a typical anxious expression on his face before heading towards the kitchen to continue his search for Kyle. Craig followed in silence, and soon they were greeted by a rather harrowing sight. Kyle, whom Tweek had always remembered as a well put together, rather immaculate looking kind of guy, was now sprawled out, face down on Bebe’s dirty kitchen floor, mumbling incoherent sentences in between taking swigs from the bottle of booze  in his right hand. His body tensed up a little upon the intrusion of the two, but soon he relaxed, realizing it was simply his harmless childhood friends and no one threatening.

“What the Hell, Kyle?” Tweek said, sounding both annoyed and worried as he entered the kitchen. “What’s the point, man?”

Craig merely walked over to Kyle, pulling him up into a sitting position without a word, his signature impassive expression on his face.

“There isn’t a point, Tweek, it’s just so much more fun getting drunk than not getting drunk,” Kyle said amusedly, flailing his arms around in a futile attempt to stand up. “Seriously, compare everyone who’s drunk at this party to everyone who isn’t. All of them look bored and sad; you two both look bored and sad. Have a little fun!” He continued, shoving his drink towards Craig as he tried to get him to stand up.

“Get your shit together, Kyle,” Craig said, managing to lift Kyle up after a short struggle to do so. He was still having a hard time keeping him standing.

“Aye, my shit is perfectly intact, Craig. If anything, it’s even more intact than your shit,” Kyle announced proudly.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you getting shitfaced on Bebe’s kitchen floor? Just for fun? Doesn’t seem like something a person with their shit together would be doing,” Craig said, remaining inexpressive and detached from the conversation despite his judgmental words.

“Okay, you two should both chill out now,” Tweek said, in disbelief over the fact that he was the one telling others to calm down.

“And who are you; Craig, to tell me if I am or I’m not okay? First of all, I’m so incredibly okay in my life, you don’t even know. And secondly, Craig, you are fully aware that you do the exact same thing as I’m doing tonight really often too, and for similar reasons, too. So you can’t judge me,” Kyle said, his voice sounding progressively more outraged and louder as he spoke.

“What are those reasons, Kyle?” Craig asked, eliciting a long period of thoughtful silence from Kyle.

“Guys, come on, relax,” Tweek said, although his attempts at calming the two were now clearly pointless.

Kyle remained still for a while, leaning on the kitchen counter for support with a contemplative expression on his face before saying, “Because of Stan. I’m so sad because of Stan.”

What ensued was a period of awkward silence far too long for anyone to be comfortable with. Finally, the silence was broken by Kyle breaking down into a mess of uncontrollable sobs and whimpers, tears streaming down his blushing cheeks as he dropped to the floor into the fetal position.

“I love him,” Kyle said, barely coherent as he spoke between sobs.

Tweek froze up, his mind going blank; he was the absolute worst in these types of situations and couldn't will himself to move, never mind help Kyle.

Craig, however, approached Kyle cautiously, patting his back as he said, “It’s okay, Kyle. Come on, you’ve gotta go home. You’ve gotta let go of this sometime.” Craig lifted Kyle up, slinging Kyle’s arm around his shoulders for support. “We should get him home,” he told Tweek, heading towards the houses backdoor.

“What’s with all the yelling?” Cartman’s voice sounded through the kitchen as he entered, Stan and Bebe following behind him.

At this point, both Craig and Tweek were at such a loss for words all they could really do was stare as the impending shit-show ensued. They both waited in anticipation for Kyle’s imminent explosive reaction to Stan’s appearance, preparing to drag him out through the backdoor. But no such reaction came, because fortunately for them, sometime during Cartman, Bebe and Stan’s dramatic entrance, Kyle passed out.

“Oh my God, what happened to him? Is he okay? He looks terrible!” Bebe shrieked upon noticing Kyle in his dishevelled state. “Kyle? Oh my God, Kyle?” She went on trying to somehow wake him or evoke any sign of life from his seemingly lifeless body.

“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Stan said, surprising Tweek and Craig as he walked over to look at Kyle.

Tweek wanted to reassure everyone and let them know that everything was fine, but was still unable to speak. Luckily, Craig spoke for him, as he said, “Chill, guys, he’s fine. He just drank too much; he didn’t get knocked out or anything like that. He’s fine.”

“He looks wasted, dude,” Stan pointed out, seeming as though he was about to move closer to Kyle, but instead he just backed away, falling silent.

“He is wasted, majorly wasted. But he’ll be fine,” Craig clarified. “We were just about to get going, taking him home.”

“I can take him home,” Cartman spoke up, walking past Stan and Bebe and to the unconscious Kyle.

Not only was this unexpected offer plain astounding to Tweek and everyone else in the room, but so was the fact that Cartman hadn’t made a single offensive or disrespectful dig at Kyle ever since he entered the kitchen. Something had to have changed in their relationship over the past couple years to make Cartman behave civilly towards Kyle, especially when Kyle was in such a vulnerable position.

Craig nodded, detaching Kyle’s limp arm from his shoulder and suspending it over Cartman’s.

“Is this really a good idea?” Tweek couldn’t help asking. From the way Kyle and Cartman’s relationship seemed in school, with the constant arguing and the foul insults frequently exchanged by the two, it made sense that Tweek was wary of it.

“Yeah, don’t Cartman and Kyle normally want to kill each other?” Bebe agreed.

“I agree, dude. Is it really the best idea to send Kyle away with Cartman? Someone will end up dead, no doubt about it. I’ll go with them,” Stan offered, also understandably distrustful.

Despite the obvious distrust concerning his behavior towards Kyle, Cartman calmly walked to the backdoor, preparing to leave with Kyle hanging from his shoulder.

“It’s fine, guys. The two of them are better friends than they used to be, trust me. If there’s anyone who can help Kyle now, it’s Cartman,” Craig explained, reassuring the guarded bunch.

“Whoa, that just sounds pretty unbelievable. And how would you know anyway, Craig? We can’t really take your word for it; you and Kyle also don’t have the brightest friendship,” Bebe said, remaining unconvinced.

“Maybe, but I’m the one who checks on him most these days. Unwillingly so, but I still do. And because of this I know enough about him lately to know that Cartman is the closest he has to a best friend right now. Weird, right? And you guys would know this yourselves had you bothered to actually talk to him in the past couple of years. Maybe Cartman wouldn’t be his best friend right now if you had,” Craig said, addressing Tweek, Bebe, and Stan. Although it was pretty obvious that this was directed mostly at Stan.

Everyone just stood in silence, staring at Craig as the tension in the atmosphere ntensified. Stan, who had likely been debating whether or not he should retort, walked out of the kitchen without another word. Cartman then exited through the backdoor, taking the unconscious Kyle along with him.

“If Kyle dies it’s on you, Tucker! I’ll be coming for you!” Bebe threatened, before stumbling out of the kitchen clumsily, still somewhat tipsy herself.

Tweek’s heart was racing due to the anxiety induced by the heated ordeal, eyes wide and breath hitching. He was also fairly certain he could feel a panic attack coming on. Wonderful.

“You okay, Tweek?”Craig asked, as he took notice of Tweek’s anxious state.

“How can you stay so calm in these types of situations? Seriously, that was chaotic as Hell, and you just handled it like it was nothing. I could never,” Tweek said, in awe of Craig’s steel composure. How could someone be that calm at a time like this? How could he help calm everyone else down? Tweek could only ever dream of being that chill.

“You were pretty chill about it too, Tweek. Didn’t freak out like I remember you used to. Looks like you really have changed,” Craig said.

“Ha, yeah right. That’s what everyone thinks; truth is I’m still just the same anxious little spazoid I used to be four years ago. Maybe worse,” Tweek explained, clueless as to why he was reveling his hidden, spazzy self to Craig of all people. Did he really like him that much?

“Hey, spazoid or not, you’re still better than half the people in South Park, trust me, dude. You wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone like most these assholes would,” Craig sounded slightly less disinterested than usual.

“Yeah right. My freak outs could very easily hurt someone. The only reason I didn’t freak out just now is because you were there handling the situation like a fucking pro, like you always do. That’s why I liked you,” Tweek continued, irritated at his openness with Craig, but not enough to try stopping it.

“Didn’t you say you liked me because of the protection I gave you?” Craig questioned.

“The way I saw it, you protected me from my anxiety. Sounds cheesy, I know, but it’s true. After all, that’s all I really ever wanted, and I got it from you,” Tweek said, for some reason unable to stop himself from exposing his most private thoughts to Craig. Honestly, at this point he wouldn’t have been surprised if he professed his love to Craig, right then and there. Of course, that would never end well for either of them.

Craig didn’t respond, just stared at Tweek with this passionate, yet unreadable look in his eyes. He slowly inched his face closer to Tweek’s, slouching down due to the sizeable height difference.  Tweek tensed up, feeling more anxious than ever in that specific moment as the suspenseful atmosphere caused a flurry of butterflies to appear in his stomach. This was the first time feeling anxious felt so good. As Craig got closer, his scent filled Tweek’s nostrils, making him want to cling onto Craig and never let go.

“Hey guys, you might want to get going soon, people are saying that someone called the cops on us. Most people are going just in case,” Red said as she suddenly appeared through the kitchen door.

“Yeah, I should get going. It’s really late,” Tweek said, some anxiety lingering from his bizarre instance with Craig, just moments ago. Not to mention the severe disappointment that followed. What the Hell was he expecting to happen, anyway?

“You’re right, I’ve got to go, too,” Craig said, seeming too nonchalant about the whole thing for Tweek’s liking.

Tweek parted ways with Craig, setting out to spot Jimmy in the horde of frantically fleeing teens that remained at the party. It took him a considerable while before he actually succeeded in this, in time finding Jimmy hiding out in one of Bebe’s many guest bedrooms with some of the girls from his elementary school. After an extended period of begging and pleading to stay, Jimmy complied with Tweek’s orders, and prepared to leave the premises with him.

As they were about to exit, Tweek overheard a conversation that drained him of any hope he may have had for a happy love life.

“So you’re saying you’d never date a guy?” Anne questioned Clyde, who was slouched over on the living room couch beside Craig, both of them looking disinterested in the conversation.

“I wouldn’t date a guy. I don’t mind if others do, but I’m like, a hundred percent straight,” Clyde explained as he looked through his phone, likely waiting for someone to pick himself and Craig up.

 “So you wouldn’t mind if your brother was gay?” Anne continued questioning.

“Nope, if I had a brother, he would be free to bang whoever he wanted to, no judgment,” Clyde said.

“How about a best friend?” Whoa, this girl was really curious.

“I would care even less. Like, Craig was gay for a bit. I didn’t care then, I wouldn’t care now,” Clyde explained.

“You do realize that I was never really gay, right? I would never date a guy, Clyde. You can’t just be gay and then stop being gay whenever,” Craig said, sounding bored and detached from the conversation.

“Man, I’m just kidding. I know you; of course you’re not gay, dude. But your fake dating with Tweek was just so convincing,” Clyde joked, slinging his arm over Craig’s shoulder.

Tweek listened from across the room, a feeling of powerful melancholy hitting him at Craig’s words. This was what he had expected all along, wasn’t it? He had braced himself all along for this inevitable outcome. So why was he feeling as though his heart was being squeezed, making the world seem colorless and lonely? This must have been the punishment he got for wanting to be closer to Craig than he was allowed to be. And it hurt. A lot.

“Hey, T-Tweek, are you r-ready to go?” Jimmy asked, breaking Tweek out of his gloomy daze.

“Uh, y- yeah, Jimmy. Let’s go,” Tweek said, trying his hardest to ignore the massive unpleasant pressure weighing on his heart. At least now he understood how Kyle felt. He understood completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, I made Craig such a badass. And poor Tweek. Also that Kyman action thoooo. 
> 
> Okay, I really need to stop updating so late. But I can't help it, I'm lazy and I have shit to do. Sorry about the crappy Creek/Style, I'm getting to the good stuff. It would be boring if it just happened all at once, right? Idk, I think so.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek has a fairly shitty time after losing all hope of ever being as close to Craig as he wants to be.

Prior to the beginning of the early month of February the South Park cold had gotten somewhat milder, with the amount of heavy snow storms that normally overtake the town decreasing at a gradual pace. As the weather in South Park improved so did Tweek’s mood, the sudden appearance of sunlight drawing him out of the wistful rut he’s been in for the months of December and January. In this two month long period of depression, spent binging on random foods he had found around the house and refusing to leave it for any reasons other school and sometimes work, Tweek had come to know something. Rejection sucks. It’s unbelievably painful and powerful, making a normal human being turn into a sad, antisocial hermit for two whole months of their life. But Tweek had to deal with it in some way, and seclusion from the outside world was the only way he knew how.

Another thing Tweek had learned in this period of constant sadness and isolation was that his dear pal Thomas was likely the best and most genuine friend he would have for a long time. This may seem like quite a bold statement to make about someone Tweek had only befriended months ago, but the recent events of December and January are pure proof of this unexpected fact.

Thomas had come to check on Tweek and his mental state an abundance of times, concerned about the other’s well-being, which was more than Tweek could say for any of his other friends. That was fine by Tweek, as he had always been slightly unstable so there was no real reason for them to be troubled enough by his reoccurring emotional instability to see how he was doing. And they had no obligation to, anyway. But Thomas, for some bizarre reason, kept returning. He would start these regular visits off by trying to drag Tweek out of the comfort of his warm bed, and if he were to notice Tweek’s sullen demeanor, he would simply give up and decide to keep Tweek company. What was odd to Tweek, however, was the fact that Thomas actually minded Tweek’s intense feelings and emotions, not disregarding them because of Tweek’s long history with mental illness. Although he didn’t do this without judgment, but Tweek figured that was to be expected. After all, he can recall only a single person in the presence of whom he had never felt judged, and that unfortunately happened to be the last person Tweek wanted to think about at the moment.

It was a frosty Friday night when Tweek hadn’t left the house for almost an entire week, a record time of isolation so far. He had far too many plaguing thoughts weighing on his mind to allow himself to venture into the cold, lonely outside world. Ever since he was little, Tweek would always get shaken up by the least significant things. It was clear that this detrimental habit remained, as Tweek was still getting irrationally depressed over his indirect rejection from Craig. This was what Tweek had expected all along, so why was he so upset over it? He had only discovered his feelings towards Craig quite recently; therefore there hadn’t been any reason for his mind to react this way.

It also didn’t help that the mere mention of Craig’s name caused all the distressing thoughts Tweek had been thinking up to arise.

 _Craig doesn’t like you. He never did. He never cared about you like you cared about him, and he never will. He never even cared about you at all. He could never love someone like you._ This unknown voice would occasionally pop into Tweek's head, belittling him for his romantic feelings towards Craig despite them being largely involuntary and beyond Tweek’s control. Suffice it to say, it only made the whole fucked up situation a lot worse for Tweek, taking his already severe anxiety to a new, scarier level. It wouldn’t just cause his heart to rapidly race and his breath to speed up, as was routine for his usual anxiety attacks. No, this new form of anxiety and paranoia induced by the small voice in the back of Tweek’s head was much worse, making his insides feel toxic, festering with all the irrational insecurities and self hatred he’d ever felt.

Another thing that added to his mood was his obvious seasonal depression. Tweek couldn’t help feeling hopeless and insignificant in the wintertime, the disheartening thoughts coming naturally and without warning following the start of the intense cold.

The doorbell’s sudden ringing brought Tweek out of his thoughts, sending a loud echo through the house. This was strange to Tweek; he didn’t recall inviting anyone over tonight. First and foremost, he checked the peephole, just to make sure it wasn’t some criminal that came to steel him away in the darkness of the night. Nope, just Thomas.

“Hey,” Thomas greeted when Tweek had finally opened the door.

“Hey, um, what are you doing here?” Tweek questioned, genuinely surprised by his friend’s sudden appearance.

“Do I need a -  _fuck_ \- reason to visit my dear friend?” Thomas replied jokingly, walking past Tweek and into the living room.

“Well, you could have at least called or something. You scared the shit out of me! I thought you were a murder or some shit,” Tweek said, panicked at the thought.

“Oh come on. You would’ve thought that even if I had announced that I was coming. Anyway, I’m not the only one coming over tonight, so don’t freak out - _shit_ \- if you get some more rings,” Thomas said casually, taking a seat on Tweek’s living room couch.

“What do you mean; you’re not the only one? Who else is coming? And why?” Tweek asked, annoyed.

 “Relax, Tweek, it’s just Jimmy and Kyle. You know you’re old friends that you barely talked to for the past two months. They – _bitch_ \- wanted to see you, so I agreed to bring them over,” Thomas explained. Tweek did feel sorry about not interacting with Jimmy and Kyle a lot in the past few months, but he’d had a lot on his mind. Also, he didn’t like Thomas calling people over without asking first, but he was in no mood to argue.

“Whatever; do what you want. I’m going to go to sleep early tonight, so just keep the noise at a low level,” Tweek relented.

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere. They’re coming to see you and hang out with you, because they’re good friends. You should be a good friend to and hang with them for at least, like, a half an hour,” Thomas argued, pulling Tweek down on the couch beside him.

“Whatever,” Tweek said, planning to doze on the couch till Jimmy and Kyle came, and then through the entire ordeal. A while later he was woken up by another ring of the doorbell. They had arrived.

They spent their Friday night like you’d typically expect a reckless group of irresponsible teenagers to spend it, drinking bottle after bottle of cheap booze and pulling daring stunts that could likely land them in the hospital. Tweek hadn’t expected his Friday night to go this way, but the sudden appearances of Thomas, Kyle and Jimmy with a substantial amount of booze had managed to sway him.

By midnight the guys were all thoroughly wasted, still chugging bottle after bottle of booze.

“H-Hey g-g-guys, I h-have been t-thinking a lot about this lately, s-so I w-wanna know w-what you g-guys think a-about it,” Jimmy stated, his stutter worsened by his obvious intoxication. 

“Wha?” Thomas asked, just as tipsy Jimmy, if not more.

“S-So Bebe, I t-think she’s g-great. I-I like h-h-her a lot, w-we should get t-together,” Jimmy explained.

The room filled with an uncomfortable silence, with the three other boys pondering whether or not they should inform Jimmy of Bebe's infamous tendencies to go through guys as fast as Tweek chugged his morning coffee. She'd always been a wonderful girl and a complete badass, but her rocky history with commitment in relationships wouldn't really suit Jimmy. 

“No, man, that’s a bad idea. She has Clyde and a bunch of others, man, bad idea. I mean, good for her, but you don’t need to get involved in that shit. No,” Kyle spoke up, gesturing wildly with his hands in an effort to get his point across.

“Also, she likes K-Kyle.  She really likes him, d-dude,” Tweek said, stuttering a bit, himself. He had felt proud for kicking that bothersome habit, but whenever he got drunk it just kept coming back . Tweek hated his stutter, and he wasn't the only one. He was certain that everyone in South Park had come to find it extremely intolerable; it just made them feel too uncomfortable to make any offhand comments. Of course, the only person that had ever said anything about it was Craig. They had been about thirteen, following an anxiety attack Tweek had gotten as they were presenting a group Biology project on the muscular and skeletal system. Tweek had been a shaking, stuttering mess all throughout the presentation, but all Craig had said when Tweek began obsessively ranting about the awkwardness of the situation was 'to me, you sounded just like everybody else'. Tweek grinned at the memory. He had always thought his stutter made him sound strange and even slightly stupid, though now it could have been because of the incredibly idiotic remark he had just made. /p>

“W-W-What? No w-way. She l-likes you? I-I don't b-believe it,” Jimmy said astonished, addressing Kyle. 

“Shut up Tweek. She does not like me. Like I said, she has Clyde and some other guys. Not me, we’re not even that close. Like, not close at all,” Kyle said, dismissing the accusations.

“Yah right, you know she does. Ever since the beginning – _fuck_ \- of the year you’ve been ignoring her hints to make the situation less awkward for you,” Thomas said, earning a both sincere and terrifying glare from Kyle. 

“S-Seriously?” Jimmy questioned, still astounded. “Okay, t-then h-h-how about W-Wendy?”

“Are you kidding? She’s been dating the quarterback for the past shit ton of years. She’s even less available than Bebe, there’s no chance there” Thomas said, surprised by the suggestion.

“No, I disagree. Go for it, man. The two of them have been fighting nonstop since the start of their fucked up relationship. And that guy’s an asshole, you’re so much better than him. Any girl in her right mind would date you rather than him. Damn, I hate him, he’s such a dick,” Kyle said, getting more temperamental by the minute.

“H-Huh, thanks K-Kyle,” Jimmy said, unsure of how to respond to Kyle’s sudden mood swing.

“Whoa, dude, chill. You were best friends with Stan once, what’s – _shit_ \- with the insults?” Thomas said, practically inviting Kyle to kick his ass.

Before Kyle got the chance to lounge at Thomas however, Tweek knowingly intervened. “H-How about Red, Jimmy? You could try dating her?” He said.

Fortunately his spontaneous distraction had been a success, with Kyle turning his attention away from Thomas and back to Jimmy.

“Oh n-n-no. I m-mean she’s great, and we’re g-good friends but, e-e-even I know t-that’s a b-bad idea. T-There are r-rumors she’s g-going out w-with Craig. I’m n-not c-c-crazy enough t-to fuck with him, d-dude. No w-way,” Jimmy said.

“Oh,” Tweek said, struggling to  process the discouraging news he’d just received. Then the familiar feeling of something impossibly heavy weighing on his heart set in, causing an indescribable pain that he was uncertain how to deal with to overcome him. His breath hitched; he couldn’t breathe. Deciding he needed to get out of the room, Tweek bolted out the front door, not even offering the others an explanation.

The others called after him as he disappeared outside, into the calm, yet crisp and frosty atmosphere of the night. As soon as he stepped out he regretted not bringing a jacket with him; it was snowing quite heavily, leaving him to shiver in the cold. But the biting cold had to be the farthest thing from his mind right now.

 “What the Hell, Tweek?” Thomas said, rushing out moments after Tweek.

 “S-Sorry, I just can’t- I can’t think right now,” Tweek said, however this was a lie. On the contrary, he was thinking too much. Painful thoughts were rapidly overtaking him, causing him to remember everything he preferred not to about Craig, everything that made it worse. His already intense feelings were amplified by the disturbing effects of the alcohol he had consumed, causing him to analyze, overthink, and evaluate every single emotion he’s ever felt for Craig. In turn, this caused Tweek to realize that these burdensome feelings could never be satisfied, and that he could never be as close to Craig as he wants to. He could never love him; that was never an option. And it hurt.

 _You really are fucking insane if you actually believed you could be loved by him_.  _No one could love you, especially not him. He’d be disgusted to know you feel that way. But you can’t blame him, anyone would be._  The voice spoke in malicious tone, getting louder and louder. Tweek couldn’t deal with it; he wanted it gone.

“Tweek! – _Fuck_ \- Tweek!” Thomas’s yelling finally broke Tweek out of his terrifying thoughts. He really couldn't function anymore; his body trembled violently, his knees threatening to give in at any moment.

“I’m s...sorry. I’m s-sorry, I’m just so tired,” Tweek admitted, dropping down onto the massive blanket of snow covering the entire front yard.

“Don’t worry, Tweek. It’s okay; you’ll be okay,” Thomas said softly, patting Tweek on the back as he spoke. “I haven’t asked yet because it’s none – _shit_ \- of my business, and I wasn’t planning to,” He continued, taking a seat in the snow, beside Tweek. “But what happened? What’s been up with you these past two months? Why are you freaking out now?”

“Um,” Tweek didn’t know whether to tell him the truth or not. Thomas had been an amazing friend to Tweek the past couple months, but Tweek’s actual reasoning behind his sudden seclusion was something he really preferred not sharing.

“You don’t have to tell me. I was just thinking that sharing - _fuck_ \- might help you feel a bit better about whatever it is that’s got you so riled up,” Thomas suggested.

“I, uh,” Tweek didn’t know how to say it, or what exactly he was supposed to say. And this sure as Hell wasn’t doing his anxiety any good. “I-I, um, I’m gay.”

“Uh, yeah, okay, that’s fine. Fine by me,” Thomas replied, clearly also unsure of what to say.

“I mean, I’m not g-gay… I just- There’s this guy I like. Okay, no, that's pretty gay. But I-“

“Tweek, stay focused. Get to the – _bitch_ \- point,” Thomas interrupted.

“Yeah, um, right. So gay or not, there’s this guy I like. And when I say like, I mean really  _like._ I like him  _a lot_. I found out that he is one hundred percent not gay at all, whatsoever; he’s so straight. So I got bummed out because, you know, it could never really work. Ever. And I know it sounds cheesy and is a fucking stupid reason to get all depressed, but I can’t help it. It made me so sad, probably because I’m kind of a psycho and I really like this guy. I might also… love him,” Tweek couldn’t believe the words pouring out of his mouth. But, surprisingly, he didn’t feel anxious. It was liberating getting it off his chest, especially knowing that he could trust Thomas.

“Who?” Thomas asked after a short period of contemplative silence, seeming awestricken.

“I- I don’t think I can say that much,” Tweek said, deciding the amount he had revealed to be enough for the time being.

“Fair enough,” Thomas said, also content with the information revealed to him, for the moment. “You coming back in?”

“Actually I think I might take a walk, get some stuff off my mind,” Tweek said, with an exact idea of where he wanted to walk to.

“You sure you want to do that? It’s fucking cold out here. You don’t even have a jacket,” Thomas questioned. He was right; it was fucking cold, and Tweek could’ve used a jacket at the moment, standing in two feet of snow with only a plain T-shirt on. But Tweek didn’t care anymore at that point.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I won’t be long, just want to think about some things,” Tweek said, stumbling through the mounds of snow in attempt to get to the shoveled street. He was halfway across his lawn when Thomas called out once more.

“Hey, Tweek,” He called, causing Tweek to turn abruptly in the snow and slip. He was caught by Thomas mid-slip, clutching onto his torso. Tweek readjusted himself and wedged both feet firmly into the snow to keep balance, still holding on to Thomas’s shoulder. He was now standing straight up against Thomas, who was staring down at him with this indiscernible, yet somewhat familiar look in his eyes. The closeness of their bodies made Tweek uneasy, causing his anxiety to resurface. He had an idea about what Thomas about to do, but he didn’t know how to stop it, or whether he should.

Thomas slowly brought his face closer to Tweek’s without breaking eye contact, and then he did it. He kissed Tweek. As soon as he felt a warm pair of lips on his own he was dumbfounded, standing so still you’d think he was paralyzed. Thomas leaned in, increasing the mild pressure of his lips on Tweek’s and moving them gently, the pleasant feel of them making Tweek’s heart race at a rapid speed. He didn’t have any romantic feelings towards Thomas, so why did this feel so good? Tweek closed his eyes, which had been wide open due to his initial shock, giving into the satisfying sensation of having Thomas’s lips move against his own.

Finally Tweek felt the warmth leave him and it was over. By the time he opened his eyes Thomas had disappeared into the house, leaving Tweek confused and alone in the cold. Well, now he definitely needed to get some things off his mind.

Before jumping to any absurd conclusions regarding Thomas’s unexpected actions of the evening, Tweek decided to head out to his favorite place in the whole of South Park. Stark’s Pond. He would visit the peaceful site often during his early days in South Park, along with his best friends at the time. Over time, it had become their regular area for hanging out, and Tweek recalled the majority of their most cherished and meaningful moments occurring there. Craig had buried his beloved guinea pig Stripe at Stark’s, claiming it to be the only place fit to treasure Stripe’s graceful presence for all eternity.

After about ten minutes of walking Tweek finally arrived, taking in the picturesque scenery of the pond. It was completely frozen over, its icy surface glistening in the moon’s silvery light. The surrounding pines were covered by a thick blanket of pure white snow, and long, polished icicles hung dangerously off of leafless tree branches. The snow-covered mountain peaks in the far distance only enhanced the beauty of the desolate site, making it seem like a true winter wonderland.  

Tweek lay down on the freezing blanket of snow; beneath the very pine Craig had buried Stripe so long ago. He observed the dark night sky, illuminated by only a few radiant stars scattered messily around it. Then he closed his eyes, his mind clearing of all the negative thoughts that had been plaguing him. In this moment, Tweek wasn’t worrying about his troublesome feelings for Craig; he wasn’t worrying about the kiss he had shared with Thomas potentially ruining their friendship. He didn’t worry about anything. This strange sense of serenity was a rare occurrence in Tweek’s life, and a severely needed one.

“What are you doing here?” A voice asked, pulling Tweek out of his relaxed daze. He couldn’t tell who it was; he was still pretty drunk and didn’t care to find out.

Tweek didn’t even get up to check who it was, keeping eyes closed and himself in the snow. “Sleeping,” Tweek decided to say after a short period of pleasant silence.

“You know you could die that way. Not your the best idea, Tweek,” the unknown person said. “Unless that’s what you’re trying to achieve.”

“Not really. But it’s not like it’s the worst way to go anyway. I’m having such an awesome time right now, if I died I don't think I would mind,” Tweek said, feeling content with himself.

“I swear, Tweek, no one thinks the way you do,” the person muttered. “You know others would mind if you died, right?”

“You’re right, letting myself die out here would be selfish of me, but honestly I haven’t felt this good in a while. I mean, I feel shitty most of the time, so feeling this good may even be worth the risk,” Tweek explained, with his eyes remaining shut.

“Why do you feel so shitty all the time?” the person questioned.

“I don’t know. It’s just the way I am. No one else’s fault but mine. I freak out. I freak out a lot. And then I feel bad about freaking out, and when I feel bad it’s pretty intense so it’s like falling down a sort of depressing rabbit hole. When I’m sad I’m really sad, and it lasts for a while. I’m anxious all the time because I just can’t help being the way I am, no matter how hard I try. No matter how many times I’m told ‘Whoa, Tweek, you’ve changed so much’; I know it can’t be true because I can’t change. All I can ever do to escape it is pretend to be someone that I’m not. I want to be somebody else,” Tweek said, too numbed by his emotions to feel saddened by his words.

“You’re great, though,” the person responded.

“Huh?” Tweek mumbled, unable to process their words.

“Whether you can change or not, you’re pretty fucking great. You’re a good person, despite your anxiety and feeling shitty all the time. Better than most the people in South Park both with and without your freak outs. You shouldn’t want to be somebody else, because you're not the same as everybody else. You're better,” the person said, surprising Tweek with their kind words.

“Not many people would say that,” Tweek replied.

“Doesn’t matter. Trust me, in this crappy little town, mine is the only opinion that’s worth something. You're the only person better than me,” the person remarked cockily, giving Tweek a fair idea of who it may be.

“And you are?” Tweek asked as he finally opened his eyes, lifting his head and turning it to find out who the owner of the mysterious voice had been.

The impassive face of a tall, black haired boy wearing a blue chullo came into vision, causing the sense of tranquility Tweek had been feeling to vanish.  Instead, he felt an overwhelming emotion that can only be described as a bizarre fusion of anxiety, sadness, and relief. He stared wide-eyed at his former best friend, unsure of what to say to ease the awkwardness of the situation.

“Are you really that surprised?” Craig asked in his typical nonchalant tone of voice.

No, Tweek wasn’t that surprised. Or at least he shouldn’t have been. Craig was the sole person in South Park that would never judge Tweek based on his anxieties and freak outs, seeing him for who he is rather than just the annoying spaz everyone else perceived him to be. Tweek had always known that.

“Why are you here? And why are you... being so nice to me?” Tweek asked.

“I come to visit Stripe sometimes, for the old times’ sake. This time I ran into more than one memory,” Craig replied. "And I'm just being honest." 

“W-What do you mean by _memory_?” Tweek asked. He was pretty sure it was somehow related to his presence at Stark’s Pond, but he couldn’t think about it right now.

“You. Coming here to calm that fucked up mind of yours. Just like old times,” Craig explained.

“Oh, yeah, I would do that sometimes. Well then, I guess we both came here for the memories,” Tweek said, laying back down on the frosty piles of snow covering the earth. He was extremely tired and sleepy.

“You came here because you used to come here back in the day?” Craig asked, sitting down in the snow, next to the drowsy Tweek.

“Nope. I came here because it reminded me of you. The memory of you. Because I liked you so much. I still like you… way too much,” Tweek mumbled, before finally dozing off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow. Dramatic. A lot happened really quick in this one, sorry. I had some time to write. Also it's kinda long, ugh.  
> Well, anyway, I hope you peeps like it. At least it has some real action (even though it's not Creek, lol). I'll try to make the next one a little less depressing. And I'll make Tweek a little less sad, too.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Tweek's eventful Friday night.

It was around seven o’clock on a cold Monday morning. Tweek sat silently on the frosted concrete steps leading to the school’s back exit, contemplating whether he’ll succeed in avoiding both Craig and Thomas for this entire school day. Or for the rest of his life.

Saturday morning Tweek hadn’t been able to recall the dramatic events of the recent Friday night, just remembering a few vague details concerning the most insipid instances of the evening. He had been fairly drunk, so this was to be expected. However, throughout the weekend Tweek had managed to gain some recollection of Friday night’s incidents, which caused his already compact sleep schedule to become almost non-existent. They terrified him, to say the least.

After an entire weekend spent obsessing over the humiliating happenings, Tweek had resolved to avoid Craig and Thomas for the rest of his life. He left the house before six this morning; he wanted to get out before Thomas came. Granted, six was way too early. Thomas normally arrived at about seven thirty, but Tweek wasn’t taking any chances.

Tweek’s view was obscured by the dense fog creeping over the school grounds, but he could tell there wasn’t a soul in sight. He observed the vast football field and the snowy tree tops of the surrounding forest. The breezy winter atmosphere filled with the sound of complete silence. The way Tweek preferred it.

The peaceful loneliness of the scene brought back memories of Denver. It had been a rather shitty time, Tweek had to admit, similar to most unpleasant high school experiences. Bullying, social ostracism, rejection, self-hatred. Tweek had been subjected to a little bit of each, enough to know that dwelling on the memories was just futile and torturous. But there were things he couldn’t simply stop thinking about. His junior year, which had been his last year living in Denver, some girl his age killed herself.

Tweek had known her. Not enough to call her a friend, but enough to greet her as they would pass each other in the school hallways. She had been well-liked by most everyone. An amiable kid, outgoing and conventionally attractive, among the best in school concerning grades. When she died it was a shock to everyone, but soon the community made peace with it and reluctantly moved on. Tweek couldn't move on. This amazing person, who on the surface seemed so well put together and stable, had decided to end their own life. Tweek's life and accomplishments appeared so small and insignificant in comparison to hers, yet somehow he was the one still breathing. 

Needless to say, this contributed immensely to the deteriorating of Tweek’s mental state, and he had refused to leave the house for a couple months following the tragic event. This may have also swayed his parents in their decision of whether or not to move back to South Park, as they had assumed that moving back would be therapeutic for Tweek in some way. Now here he was, trying to keep up this front of normality in a pointless attempt appear somewhat stable to the people around him, and in that only losing his mind even more. He was behaving so unlike himself that the real him was practically a stranger to those he cared about, as even they bought into his bogus act. No one knew him, not really.

That all reminded him of her. Everyone had known her as being the image of perfection, someone that they could look up to and admire. But she could’ve been an entirely different person, with an abundance of flaws and personal troubles that no one had any idea about. When she killed herself it came as an unexpected shock to the entire community, but she may have known that it was coming for a while. It’s just that there was no one to save her, no one to help.

“What’s up?” It was Craig again, out of nowhere, as if he appeared only when Tweek was thinking too much to relieve him of his wearying thoughts. It didn’t help though, when the reason his thoughts were wearying in the first place was Craig himself. _So much for trying to avoid him_ , Tweek thought.

“H-Hey,” Tweek greeted, trying to remain casual despite the anxiety caused by the thought of his previous encounter with Craig. _I said something way too stupid_ , Tweek thought.

“Have you talked to Kyle? I’ve been trying to get through to him but the asshole won’t answer my calls,” Craig said, taking a seat beside Tweek on the concrete steps.

“What? K-Kyle? Why?” He hadn’t talked to Kyle since Friday, and he seemed fine. “He’s okay, right?”

“He got into a fist fight with Marsh yesterday. It was totally out of nowhere; he just lost his shit,” Craig explained in his usual voice, as if this was just another part of some insignificant small talk. He looked at Tweek as he spoke, though, which hadn’t happened since Tweek had come back.

“W-What the fuck? How’d that happen? Kyle wouldn’t- Why did he d-do that?” Tweek couldn’t believe it. Sure, Kyle had always been rather volatile and short-tempered, but only enough to take his frustrations out verbally.

“All I heard is that he was drunk out of his mind and then lunged at Stan for something stupid. I didn’t look into it that much since it’s none of my business. But I guess it was like he reached his limit. He was just angry and out of it,” Craig explained, still concentrating on Tweek as he did so.

“Oh shit, man. He’s been like that for a while, hasn’t he? But that’s still so unlike him. Kyle’s not a violent person; he would never hit anyone, e-ever. Especially not Stan. Wonder if he’s okay,” Tweek said, fidgeting a little at the thought and because Craig’s staring was getting quite intense.

“What surprised me is that Stan actually went along with it. I thought he was cool with Kyle, despite him being such an asshole. Looks like he had a limit, too,” Craig said. “They’re both losing it.”

“That m-makes three of us,” Tweek mumbled.

“Your stutter’s back,” Craig pointed out after a short period of silence, a hint of surprise barely detectable in his monotone voice.

Tweek felt himself blush, excusing it as just a reaction to the biting cold. “Yeah, kind of. It’s so annoying,” he said. “I have no idea why, but I can’t shake it. I’m thinking I’ll j-just keep my mouth shut for the rest of my life.”

“It’s okay,” Craig said. He wasn’t looking at Tweek anymore, instead staring out over the desolate football field. “It’s cute.”

 _Oh no._ Tweek hated this. He knew there was not a single chance for him and Craig, but this needless flirting would always cause an involuntary feeling of hope within Tweek, only to be crushed a couple seconds later under the weight of cruel reality. But nothing could be done about it. It’s not like Craig was aware of the fact that he was playing with Tweek’s fraught emotions every time he acted this way. Tweek just had to get over it.

Craig seemed unbothered by Tweek’s sudden awkward silence, and looked out onto the snowy field with a somewhat thoughtful look on his face.

“W-What are you thinking about?” Tweek questioned, trying to change the topic.

“The way we used to be,” Craig said. Tweek hated it when Craig was brief with his replies, but he was too flustered by what Craig had just said too feel irritated. His blush was likely too noticeable to be blamed on the cold at this point. “What about you?”

“Ugh, K-Kyle and Stan now, I guess,” Tweek said, avoiding mentioning his previous train of thought that focused mostly on suicide. “Did Kyle ever actually tell you he loved Stan? He never told me.”

“Not using those exact words, no. I wouldn’t say the one time at Bebe’s party counts, because he was drunk as shit, but it confirms everything I assumed up to now,” Craig explained, his brows furrowed in thought.

“What do you assume, then?” Tweek questioned.

Craig sighed. “He’s a control freak. He can’t control his feelings for Stan, and he didn’t want Stan’s opinion of him to change for the worse so he changed it himself before that could happen.”

“Whoa, you must’ve thought about this a lot,” Tweek said, surprised. Craig never had much to say about somebody else’s business.

“Not really. It’s just… familiar,” Craig said.

 _How?_ , Tweek thought, but quickly decided it had nothing to do with him. “Still doesn’t explain why he hasn’t said it.”

“I think for him that would make it all true. For me that would just be confusing, so I kind of get it,” Craig said, sounding casual again.

 _Who is it that you can’t admit you love? Red?_  Tweek was left puzzled by Craig’s words, feeling as though he was unable to understand something plainly obvious. “Do you think Stan would ever love him back?”

After a thoughtful pause Craig said, “I don’t know. He’s got to love him, but he’s straight as far as I know, so it’s probably a friend kind of love. Anyway, it must fucking suck for Kyle. Feeling that way for a close friend and it being unrequited has got to hurt.”

“It d-does,” Tweek mumbled without thinking. By the time he realized what he had just said, Craig was staring at him with that familiar unreadable look in his eyes. Tweek tried his hardest to stare back, but Craig’s gaze was too intense, causing Tweek to turn his head in an abrupt attempt to hide his blushing face. The aforementioned silence overtook the air once again, but was soon interrupted by the sound of Tweek’s heart rapidly beating in his chest. The two remained still for what seems like eternity, surrounded by the barrenness of the school grounds, until finally Craig closed the space between them without a single word. He pressed Tweek up against the icy brick wall near the school’s back exit, causing a shiver to run down Tweek’s spine at the unexpected contact. All of a sudden, Craig lips crashed onto Tweek’s and he wrapped his arms around the stunned boy. Tweek let out a low moan at the satisfying feeling of their warm bodies pressed together; immediately he felt his face heat up to an unimaginable degree. Craig’s lips felt soft, yet moved roughly against Tweek’s, the friction between them evoking another pleasured moan out of him. This made Craig deepen the kiss, tilting his head for better access to Tweek’s mouth.

Tweek pulled back, trying to catch his breath. He leaned his head against the cool brick wall and looked up at a disheveled Craig protectively towering over him, staring down at him with that same overpowering, impassioned gaze. Tweek had to look away once again, unable to withstand the scrutiny of Craig's forceful stare without going red in the face.

"It's not unrequited, Tweek. Not for you, anyway. I don't know about me," Craig said, out of breath.

"No, I- ... Um, it's not unrequited for you, e-either," Tweek replied quietly, unable to hide the obvious joy in his voice. The feeling disappeared as he remembered something crucial. "But, what about Red?"

"What?" Craig seemed confused by the question.

"Aren't you two, ugh, d-dating?" Tweek asked, trying to keep his hopes as low as possible to avoid any potential disappointment.

"No. Where'd that come from? We're not... Oh shit. I'm going to kill Bebe," Craig said, sounding more amused than irritated. Tweek took that as a good sign.

He felt relieved. He wasn't prepared to be happy at the price of hurting someone else. Now he knew he had no one to worry about. In that moment, he was happy. But, once again, the feeling of contentedness was only fleeting, and was soon replaced by uneasiness. There was someone he could end up hurting, after all. _Thomas_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry it took me so fucking long to update, it's just that I have a lot of shit to do. That's also why this chapter is so short, but I'll try and update sooner to compensate.  
> Anyway, finally. It took me forever to get to some Creek shit, and now here it is. I kind of sped through writing it, but idk, I'm pretty satisfied. Thanks for reading, btw.
> 
> (Also, I unfortunately had to change all the chapter names to boring ones cuz I forgot where I was going with them, lmao. Oh well.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendy attempts to convince Kyle to straighten things out with Stan, while Tweek seems to be losing his shit.

Biology class had always been pretty boring for Kyle. For the most part because Mr. Rivera was never the type of teacher to put effort into making his lessons engaging for his students, but rather preferred to read through the subject content he had prepared for each lesson in an extremely mundane fashion while demanding the students’ undivided attention along with their complete and utter silence. This style of teaching had never bothered Kyle, as it managed to get the job done as far as learning the subject goes, but it made his Biology lessons feel as though they dragged on for eternity.

This gave his mind plenty of opportunities to wander past thoughts relating to the monotony of Biology and into the more pressing problems in his life at the moment. Kyle never wanted to think about problems, even if that’s what was necessary to overcome them. It was too emotionally draining. If this were just a general issue concerning something as straightforward as writing college applications or getting a driver’s license, Kyle would have no problem dealing with it. He had enough experience regarding such topics to know how to handle them in a competent manor without too much worry or panic, likely because his mother was a control freak obsessed with having her sons lead lives that could be considered successful according to society’s typical ideals. Though she was a nice lady, and Kyle knew that she meant well. But she certainly couldn’t help him with what’s been weighing on his mind at present. A problem he couldn’t solve, something he was just going to have to get over and move on from sooner or later. For Kyle it was usually sooner, as he didn’t like wasting valuable time dwelling on such trivial thoughts. This just seemed kind of difficult to move on from.

Mr. Rivera managed to get through the day’s lesson a little faster than usual, so he gave the class the rest of the period to study in silence. This made things worse for Kyle.

“What’s got you looking so down in the dumps, Kyle?” Wendy, who sat beside Kyle, asked, breaking him out of his thoughtful stupor. 

Kyle guessed that she was well aware of the reason why he looked so ‘down in the dumps’, but was just too polite to ask about it head-on at the risk of making him feel uncomfortable.  That was the kind of person Wendy was. Nice. She wanted to spare Kyle the potential awkwardness of the moment, allowing him to avoid talking about the unpleasant memory if that’s what he preferred. And that definitely was what Kyle would rather have done, but talking about it seemed somehow therapeutic at that moment. Also the evidence of the cause of Kyle’s dejection was displayed on his face in the form of a swollen black eye, so dismissing the subject would be pretty senseless at this point.

“You haven’t heard? There was a light tussle between me and this asshole jock dude Sunday night, nothing to be concerned about,” Kyle said sarcastically, with a small smile. “I kicked his ass, so it’s fine. I’m fine.” It may have not been the best idea to call Stan an ‘asshole jock dude’ straight to his girlfriend’s face, but Kyle’s strong dislike of the guy won over his compulsion to be cordial.

Wendy just gave him a worried look before saying, “Kyle, you and Stan… you need to talk. This thing that’s been going on between you two for the past two years has to end.”

Kyle was pretty certain that this was his cue to let Wendy know that there’s nothing to discuss, that things are the way they are for a reason, that he had tried to have a serious talk with Stan but it just lead to him getting a black eye and a bruised lip.

“I know it might be out of line for me to get involved but you’re both having difficulty dealing with this,” Wendy continued, despite Kyle’s silence. “I’m your friend and Stan’s girlfriend. I want to help you, that’s why I’m telling you this.”

“Look, it’s been two years already, so is there even a point to try and reconcile? We tried to talk about things and it clearly didn’t end well for us,” Kyle said, gesturing to the bruise surrounding his left eye. “And there wasn’t much to discuss anyway, we never fought about anything, and we just kind of suddenly split. Of course our talk would lead to a fight; it can’t lead to a final resolution because there was never a reason.”

“But there had to be. You guys were best friends. Super best friends. Never in my life had I known two people with such a close and genuine friendship. You couldn’t have just split. You guys don’t split, you don’t separate. The worst part is you both claim that you had a talk but you didn’t even try. You probably saw whatever happened Sunday night as a way to vent your pent up anger instead of a way to patch things up.”

Wendy was right. She hit the nail on the head, as she always had.

“Why the fuck are you still dating that guy, anyway?” Kyle joked, trying to dismiss the topic. “You’re too good for him, if you ask me.”

“Beats me.” Wendy said, trying to stifle a giggle as Mr. Rivera’s attention had already been on both her and Kyle for some time due to their constant conversation.

She failed, but Kyle didn’t mind. He liked the sound of her voice; it was soft and soothing, so much so that Kyle imagined he could listen to it and nothing else for the rest of his life. It was just another characteristic of Wendy’s that proved her perfection. She was the type of girl that was somehow graceful in everything she did, regardless of the situation she was in. At one point in their friendship, this aspect of her almost lead Kyle to completely resent her. It was at the height of his discontent with his and Stan’s relationship. _Of course Stan likes her_ , Kyle would think, _she’s not just a girl, she’s perfect._ Though he got over this detrimental thought process quite fast, after he realized that blaming Wendy was not going to make things any more bearable for him.

“So then,” Wendy continued once Mr. Rivera went back to reading the book in his hands, “you promise to try and better things with Stan? It has to be soon. No dragging this out or backing out of it at the last minute.”

“Please. As much as I don’t want to do this, we both know I’m not one to waste time. I’ll think about it, though, okay? That’s kind of a lot to ask.” Kyle could pretend to cooperate for the time being; it’s not like Stan would ever agree to this after Kyle’s unjustifiable behavior towards, so there’s no need for Kyle to worry or put up a fight.

“Sounds good. But don’t take too long, I don’t think I can stand Stan’s constant ranting about you for much longer,” Wendy said, smiling.

The bell rang, sounding the end of that unusually eventful Biology lesson. If he was being honest, Kyle would have to say he preferred the period as it was most of the time- dull and uninteresting.

On his way to lunch, Kyle bumped into Tweek, who seemed somehow even more nervous than usual.

“K-Kyle! I really, uh- I need to talk to you. Something h-happened. Well, um, a lot of things happened, but now those things could all potentially blow up in my face and cause trouble for everyone. And I can’t-”

“Tweek.  Slow down. Take a deep breath; we can talk about this after we get our food,” Kyle said. Under regular circumstances, he would have allowed Tweek to finish his panicked rambling right there and then, considering the kid’s fraught state of mind. But due to the lecture he had just received from Wendy, Kyle was quite eager to sit down and chow down.

“Kyle,” Tweek said, trying to gain some composure. “I don’t know what to do. I n-need to tell someone or I’ll go crazy. I’ve been trying to keep it in for the last five hours.”

The terrified look in Tweek’s eyes was enough to convince Kyle that lunch could wait. He still showed off his complaint with a sigh before saying, “Okay, go ahead. What’s up?”

“I can’t tell y-you here. It’s not something I, uh, want other’s overhearing,” Tweek said. His eyes scanned over the crammed hallway, searching for the nearest bathroom.  They would often be empty at the start of lunch period with the majority of the students rushing to get to the head of the lunch line before it grew impossibly long.

Once he had spotted it, Tweek started making his way towards the bathroom, with Kyle following behind him. It was empty, as Kyle suspected it would be, but Tweek double-checked each of the stalls for people just in case. 

“So, um,” Tweek started, “How d-do I even explain this? Um, okay, so I’ll just get to the point. Remember when we hung out last Friday night?”

“Yeah…,” Kyle confirmed. Tweek’s unwavering frightened demeanor was starting to convince him that something may actually be wrong. “What about it? Did something happen then?”

“I, uh- Well, k-kind of, I guess, yeah. Something did happen then.”

“Okay… what is it, Tweek? It can’t have been that bad since it was just you, me, Thomas and Jimmy, right?” Kyle said in attempt to calm Tweek.

“I don’t think it w-was bad in the way you think it was… I mean, I guess you could say it was bad, maybe because of the consequences, but it was more surprising and badly timed rather than just ‘bad’,” Tweek explained while fidgeting with hands. At this point it was clear that he was trying to stall instead of getting to the point like he said he would.

“Tweek, just tell me what happened, okay? I won’t judge you for it and I’ll help you with it if it’s serious. You can tell me,” Kyle said. He felt worried about Tweek, but he was also starving.

“Okay, y-yeah. Last Friday night when we were all super d-drunk, I went out for a while to clear my head, I guess. And Thomas followed me and we talked for a bit about... things. Anyway, when we were done talking I was going to leave for a bit, but Thomas stopped me, and he, uh-… Thomas k-kissed me.”

Kyle really didn’t know what to say to that. He stared at Tweek for some time, trying to comprehend what he had just been told. How was it that when he was the only closeted gay in South Park all the action he got was from his hidden stash of gay porn mags, but when Tweek came back another apparently closeted gay kid was all over him in just a matter of months? And that kid just happened to be Thomas, which made this all the weirder and more unbelievable.

Tweek’s was growing more and more uncomfortable due to Kyle’s stunned silence. “Yeah, t-that’s not all,” he said. “Something else happened.”

“Another thing? Hate to break it to you, but the first one didn’t sound all that bad. You know how much I’ve wanted to find another gay in South Park for the past couple years? A lot. And to make out with him? Would’ve killed to. Well, that’s depending on who it is, actually. I’m horny as fuck but I’d rather die than make out with Cartman, ugh.” Kyle cringed at the thought.

“Kyle,” Tweek said, trying to get him back on topic. “The other thing kind of complicates everything and creates a problem.”

“Okay, you’ve got my attention, get to it,” Kyle said, feeling somewhat eager to find out. It was nice having someone to talk to about this, Kyle thought. Since he’s kept his gayness locked away within himself for so long.

“It happened this morning. I was sitting near the football field. It was too early for anyone to be around, but Craig showed up. We talked for a while, and then, uh, h-he also  kissed me.”

Kyle was left completely astonished, yet again. “Huh? Another guy? Craig? Hold on. Craig Tucker? But isn’t he- Wait, no, never mind. Clearly he’s not straight. And you’re in love with him, so this is a good thing, right?”

“I guess, but I don’t want to hurt Thomas. He’s my friend; I don’t know what t-to do,” Tweek explained, squirming in his place.

“Thomas will understand. I’m pretty sure he knows how much you like Craig. And he’s not one to make things awkward. He’d just let things settle down and then act as though nothing happened,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I feel like I- Maybe, I- I think I might, uh-”

“Wait… Tweek, don’t tell me you like him, too?” Kyle was mentally floored at this point. There was a limit to the amount of revelations his mind could take in such a short time span. This wasn’t just the tip of the iceberg; it was the whole damn thing.

“I don’t know. The problem is that I feel like I might. I have no idea what to do about it. Shit,” Tweek said, then sighed. He seemed pretty done with the whole dramatic situation, as well.

“Although I have no experience in this… area, I would say that you should think about this carefully before doing anything. You don’t want to act right away and regret things later because of it. Hang out with both of them; see which one you prefer being with,” Kyle suggested.

“And how do I act until I make the decision? Just pretend like nothing ever happened? T-That’s a bit awkward and douchey.”

“You could tell them the truth. Allow them to back out if it’s too complicated. I mean, they should get to decide as well,” Kyle said. This was going to escalate quickly, he had a feeling.

“That’s fair. It’s going to be super awkward, but it’s the only solution I’ve got s-so yeah, I guess I’ll try that. Thanks, Kyle. You’re a great friend,” Tweek mumbled, looking slightly relieved.

“I’m happy to help, dude. Just be aware that this has a lot of potential to get weird,” Kyle said, “but even when it does, I’ll probably be there for it. It’s fun to talk about this shit.”

Tweek gave Kyle a small, unsure smile. “Oh shit, I just remembered you’re, uh, thing with Stan,” he said, diverting his attention to Kyle’s black eye.

“My fight with Stan. Of course you’ve heard of it by now, too. It’s the talk of the town, unfortunately for me,” Kyle said, in an ironically cheery tone of voice. “That’s something you can question me about over lunch, I’m fucking starving.”

“Let’s go,” Tweek said, and the two walked out of the bathroom, making their way towards the cafeteria. The hallways were vacant by the time they finished their rousing conversation. Kyle would've tried to make small-talk with Tweek about some commonplace topic to fill the silence as they walked, but he lost the will to talk. It was quite unnecessary as well, because somehow the silence between him and Tweek wasn't unpleasant, but rather calming, which was a first with Tweek.

"Ouch!" Kyle exclaimed. He was too focused on the quiet of the halls to notice a person inattentively walking straight ahead of him. As soon as his body made contact with a firm, broad surface, it was too late. He ended up sprawled on the floor along with the abundance of books the other person had been carrying.

"Sorry," Kyle said, as he gathered the books from all over the hallway floor. He didn't bother to check who it was; the embarrassment was unwavering regardless of who caused it, so he kept his head down.

As the person knelt down to retrieve their stack of books, Kyle managed to get a glimpse of whom it was. He came face to face with them, in fact. It was Stan. It's been years since Kyle had seen his face so close up. He had some light bruising here and there, but still looked much better than Kyle. His eyes were that characteristic light, icy blue that Kyle could never seem to get out of his head when he was younger. They were calm and kind, not threatening like Kyle recalled them being the other night. His features hadn't changed much in the past two years, Kyle thought. He just looked like Stan. His super best friend, Stan. The Stan that would stand by him through thick and thin, that wouldn't leave his side no matter what. The one person he was once prepared to reveal his deepest, darkest secrets to. The person he claimed to care for more than he cared for anyone else. The one he tore apart to preserve his own feelings. 

"I am so sorry," Kyle mumbled under his breath, breaking the gaze between the two. 

Stan straightened up and gave Kyle a dispirited look before saying, "Me too." And then he was gone.

"... Um, what just happened?" Tweek, who had been standing awkwardly on the sidelines, asked.

"Never mind, Tweek. Lunch is going to end before we even make it to the cafeteria," Kyle said. He just wanted to eat some fucking food an get his mind off things. And now there was something else he wanted. He wanted to talk to Stan again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been about a million years since I updated, but here I am now. The chapter's pretty unexciting, but we all know how I prefer to take things slow (maybe to a fault). Anyway, I finally got to something about Style, since it's been a while. Hope you like it!


End file.
